A/o  •  -fiZS. 


J 


J 


• 


CUARQfAN   ANGELS  ) 


THE 


GUARDIAN  ANGELS, 


OR, 


FRIENDS  IN  HEAVEN 


BY 

MRS.    SARAH    GOULD. 


Are  ye  forever  to  your  skies  departed  ? 

0 !  will  ye  visit  this  dim  world  no  more  ? 
Ye  whose  bright  wings  a  solemn  splendor  darted 

Through  Eden's  fresh  and  flowery  shades  of  yore? 


BOSTON: 
HIGGINS,  BRADLEY  AND   DAYTON, 

20  WASHINGTON   STREET. 

1857. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 

HIGGINS  AND  BRADLEY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


"W.  P.  DRAPER, 
Stereotyper  and  Printer, 

ANDOVER,  MASS. 


NOTE. 


THIS  little  offering,  or  memento  of  affection, 
under  the  appropriate  title  of  Guardian  Angels, 
or  Friends  in  Heaven,  is  now  presented  to  the 
public,  with  the  hope  that  the  sympathy  and 
sentiments  expressed  will  meet  a  hearty  response 
from  all  who  peruse  its  pages. 

How  beautiful  and  sublime  the  thought  of 
angels,  and  guardian  angels  —  their  society  and 
mission;  of  the  redeemed  spirits^of  the  "just 
made  perfect,"  and  archangels,  with  cherubims 
and  seraphims,  wafting  their  heavenly  influen- 
ces over  us,  giving  peace,  comfort,  faith,  hope, 
and  consolation  to  all  who  believe  in  the  recog- 
nition of  friends  in  heaven  !  —  also  with  the  full 
conviction  that  the  reader  will  here  find  a  per- 
fect gem  of  fragmentary  compilation,  in  prose 
and  poetry,  rich  in  thought,  truthful,  as  well  as 
sweet  and  beautiful,  in  sentiment  —  thus  mak- 
ing this  little  token  one  of  the  very  best  of  gift 
books  for  presentation  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year. 

AUTHOR. 


2051233 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Guardian  Angels, May  De  Ray.  11 

The  Angel  of  Patience,     ....       J.  G.  Whittier.  22 

The  Song  of  Angels, Anon.  23 

Angel  Music,        C.  Goidd..  24 

The  Flight  of  Angels, Anon.  26 

Angels,       Extract.  27 

Earth's  Angels, C.  Webster.  32 

The  Angel  Land, M.  K.  35 

Our  Household  Angel, L.  Magee.  36 

Another  Angel,        B.D.  Anloise.  37 

Society  of  Angels, Extract.  38 

The  Angel's  Mission, Anon.  43 

The  Veiled  Angel,        J.  M.  Mead.  43 

An  Angel  Teaching  Patience, Anon.  45 

Loss  of  Near  and  Dear  Friends,     ....    Extract.  46 

"W  ho  hath  not  Lost  a  Friend  ? Anon.  61 

Departed  Friends, •  .    .    .    .        Anon.  62 

To  One  Departed,        Anon,  63 

I  have  a  Home, Low  Barnly.  64 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

Pago. 

The  Spirit  Entering  Bliss, Rev.  B.    65 

No  Night  There, K.  M.     66 

•  Live  for  Something, Jennie  Lane.     6  7 

What  I  Live  for,  J7*P,  fli'l*  WtfK4  &  a/n/fiMnon.     68 
Inquiry  and  Reply,       .    ,.  *?*rM  %fflW      4non.     70 

Passing  Away, Mrs.  Hemans.     71 

The  Mother's  Legacy,       ....      Wm.  T.  Adams.    73 

Earth  and  Heaven,       S.  Lillie.    74 

Where  is  that  Land  ? Susan.     75 

Our  Little  Brother,       Anon.     76 

To  my  Mother,    . N.  A.  Carlton.     77 

The  Soul's  Passing,        Anon.     78 

Speak  Gently, Anon.     79 

The  Angel's  Whisper,       M.  A.  Clough.    80 

Angel's  Whisper, Anon.    83 

Three  Angel  Spirits, C.  D.  Stuart.    84 

The  Angel  Reaper,        Anon.    85 

Angel  and  the  Stars, Anon.    86 

The  Angel  and  the  Bride, Anon.    88 

The  Angel  Bride, Anon.    92 

The  Lovely  Bride,        Anon.    94 

Lean  Not  on  Earth, Anon.    98 

Flight  to  Heaven, Anon.    99 

There  is  Rest  in  Heaven,       Anon.  100 

Land  of  Promise, Anon.  101 

Friend  in  Heaven, Extract.  102 

Heaven, Festus.  110 

Aspiring  to  Heaven, M.  Forester.  Ill 

Mother  and  Heaven, Anon.  112 

To  my  Wife  in  Heaven Wallace.  113 


CONTENTS.  7 

Page. 

Suffering  Exchanged  for  Heaven,        .    .    .       Anon.  114 

He  Dwelleth  in  Heaven,        M.  A.  F.  115 

A  Home  in  Heaven, Anon.  116 

•  The  Heavenly  Friend,      .    .    .      Rev.  L.  D.  Phelps.  117 

In  Heaven, .Anon.  118 

Ministering  Spirits,        Anon.  120 

Are  they  not  all  Ministering  Spirits  ?  C.  Acton.  122 

Farewell  to  Earthly  Joys,       ....    J.  H.  Hooper.  124 

The  Refuge, RolMs.  125 

The  Angel  of  the  Leaves,     ....      H.  F.  Gould.  126 

Child  and  the  Angels,        C.  Swain.  131 

Little  Angel  Nellie,       Anon.  132 

Dreaming  of  Angels, Anon.  133 

Can  we  forget  Departed  Friends  ?       .    .    .       Anon.  135 

The  Angel  Forms,         Anon.  137 

Angelic  Forms, Anon.  141 

Softly,  Peacefully, Anon.  142 

The  Departed, If.  A.  C.  143 

Departed  Spirits, G.  D.  145 

A  Ransomed  Spirit, T.  A.  Kenmore.  147 

/  Let  us  be  Patient, Longfellow.  148 

She  Sleepeth, H.  E.  B.  149 

To  my  Mother, Anon.  150 

To  a  Brother  in  Heaven,       M.  D.  M.  151 

The  Way  to  Heaven Rev.  M.  Sheeley.  152 

Thoughts  of  Heaven, Mary  Howitt.  153 

The  Indian's  Dream  of  Heaven,     ....       Anon.  155 

First  Moments  in  Heaven, Anon.  156 

A  Vision  of  Heaven, Anon.  157 

The  Angel  and  the  Flowers,      .    .     Hans  Anderson.  158 


8  CONTENTS. 

Page. 

To  The  Flowers, Anon.  164 

The  Transplanted  Flowers,        .    .       Charlotte  AUfn.  167 

The  Flowers,       A.  M.  Bigelow.  166 

A  Flower  in  Heaven A.  E.  N.  168 

Flowers, Harvy  Elmore.  169 

Are  there  Flowers  in  Heaven  ?  C.  W.  Dowling.  1 70 

Spring  Flowers,        Anon.  172 

I  cannot  Stoop  to  Flowers,    .    .    .    J.  Milton  Dexter.  173 

Precept  of  Flowers, Household  Words.  1 74 

The  Use  of  Flowers, Anon.  175 

Bright  Flowers,        .......    R.  R.  McKay.  176 

Summer  Flowers, Anon.  1 78 

How  Lovely  are  the  Flowers,     .•  .    .    .    .        Anon.  179 

The  True  End  of  Being,        Anon.  180 

The  Beautiful  Island  and  its  Angel,        T.  Mackellean.  181 

The  Beautiful  Land, Anon.  190 

The  Land  of  the  Blest,  .  .  .  W.  0.  B.  Pealody.  191 
Invitation  to  go  on  Pilgrimage,  .  .  J.  Montgomery.  192 

A  Better  Home, E.G.  Douglas.  193 

Spirit  Longings,        . J.  D.  Babbitt.  195 

Parting  Words,         'Joseph  Britten.  196 

Re-union  Above, Leggett.  197 

Our  Infant  Angel,         ........       Anon.  198 

Last  Words  of  a  Wife  to  her  Husband,    .    .       Anon.  206 

My  Boy, Anon.  208 

Shall  we  Recognize  our  Friends  in  Heaven  ?  Extract.  209 
The  Voice  of  Sympathy,  ...  M.  D.  Williams.  224 
The  Family  Meeting,  ....  Charles  Sprague.  225 

Come  to  the  Land  of  Peace,       Anon.  227 

Mother's  Dream  of  Heaven,      v.    .    .      T.  S.  Arthur.  228 


CONTENTS.  9 

Page. 

A  Voice  from  Heaven, Anon.  235 

Anchor  thy  Hope  in  Heaven,    .    .    .    .    C.  Melville.  237 

The  Angel  Meeting, /.  P.  G.  238 

Sing  to  Me  in  Heaven, Anon.  245 

Guide  to  Heaven, Anon.  246 

The  Child's  First  Thought  of  Heaven,       C.  F.  Gerry.  2-17 

I  want  to  be  an  Angel, Anon.  248 

The  Cherub  Child,       ....'...       M.  A.  B.  252 

Our  Darling,        Gertrude  G.  253 

Children  in  Heaven, Anon.  254 

Re-union  in  Heaven, C.  Palfrey.  255 


ti  Ittgds; 


Oil, 

FRIENDS  IN  HEAVEN, 


GUARDIAN  ANGELS. 

'TWAS  evening.  The  sun  had  sunk  behind 
the  distant  hill-tops,  and  the  sombre  shades  of 
night  were  fast  gathering  round  the  snowy 
couch  of  a  little  sufferer.  A  careful  hand 
had  folded  aside  the  muslin  shade,  and  the 
faint  light  of  evening  rested  on  the  pale,  sweet 
face  of  little  Alice.  Her  eyes  were  closed  in 
troubled  sleep.  Frightful  dreams  seemed  pass- 
ing through  her  infant  mind,  and  low,  sad  mur- 
murs escaped  her  unclosed  lips ;  while  the  deep 
sigh  or  gentle  groan  oft  indicated  sudden  pain. 
One  little  arm  was  thrown  across  her  pillow, 
half  buried  in  the  thickly  clustering  folds  of  shin- 
ing hair  that  had  escaped  from  its  gauzy  case. 

11 


12.  GUARDIAN   ANGELS. 

All  was  still.,  No  noise,  no  sound,  save  the 
low  moan  of  little  Alice,  was  heard  within. 
Busy  feet,  on  tip-toe,  came  and  went,  —  friends 
looked  grief,  yet  spoke  not, — but  the  tears  that 
coursed  each  other  quickly  down  the  mother's 
pale,  wan  cheek,  as  she  stood  almost  breathless, 
bending  over  her  suffering  child,  too  plainly  told 
her  anxious  sorrow. 

At  length  the  lids  slowly  unclosed,  and  the 
soft,  blue  eyes  rested  upon  her  mother.  She 
smiled,  —  oh,  that  smile !  The  first  for  many, 
many  long  weeks !  Then  the  mother  wept 
tears  of  joy,  as  she  thought  that  her  child,  her 
only  one,  might  still  live  to  be  her  solace  in 
after  years.  Alas!  fond  parent,  thy  hope  is 
vain !  Even  now  the  guardian  angel  waits  to 
take  her  to  Him  who  gave  her  thee. 

She  spoke.  "  Mother,  I  'm  going  to  live  in 
Heaven  ;  —  I  wish  papa  would  come  home  — 
poor  pa ! " 

"  He  '11  be  here  soon,  my  child ;  but  you  must 
be  quiet  and  not  talk  now,  for  you  have  been 
very  sick." 

Soon  the  door  opened.  "  Wife,  said  a  stern 
voice,  "  how  is  Alice,  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid,  William,  she  is  worse.    She  has 


GUARDIAN     ANGELS.  13 

been  stupid  and  quite  sick  all  day.  She  has 
been  wishing  you  would  come  ;  but  I  think  she 
is  asleep  now.  Speak  softly,  or  you  may  wake 
her." 

"  Has  Dr.  H called  to-day  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  he  thought  she  was  doing  well; 
but  he  left  more  medicine,  and  said  he  would 
call  this  evening.  I  wish  you  would  stay  at 
home  to-night,  William  —  if  she  should  be 
worse." 

"  I  would,  but  I  have  an  important  engage- 
ment for  this  evening;  and,  really,"  said  he, 
looking  at  his  dying  child,  "  she  seems  to  me  no 
worse  than  yesterday !  Don't  be  alarmed,  wife, 

Dr.  H will  be  here  to  see  her,  and  I  shall 

be  home  at  eleven,  and  if  anything " 

"  How  is  papa's  little  Alice  to-night  —  sick, 
eh  ?  "  Alice  looked,  but  replied  not. 

"  AUie,  dear,"  said  her  mother,  "  your  papa 
has  come  now."  Still  she  sp^oke  not ;  "  Allie, 
Allie,  y  OUT  papa  has  come;  wont  you  speak  to 
papa?  " 

"  Dear  papa,"  said  the  sweet  little  child,  rais  • 
ing  her  deep  blue  eyes,  "  I'm  going  to  Heaven." 

"  Nonsense, "  said  the  infidel  father,  "  you 
have  been  dreaming,  I  guess." 


14  GUARDIAN   ANGELS. 

"  Yes,  papa,  I  have  dreamed  a  s\\  eet  dream, 
and  I  saw  little  children  with  wings,  —  so  hap- 
py—  and  they  smiled,  and  said  I  was  coming 
to  live  with  them.  And  I  arsked  if  mamma 
would  come,  and  they  said  yes.  And  I  asked 
if  my  papa  would  come,  too,  and  they  looked 
so  sad,  and  wept ;  and  I  wept,  too,  papa,  for  I 
wanted  you  should  go  there  and  be  happy." 

"  Well,  well,  Allie,"  said  he,  stooping  to  kiss 
her,  arid  a  tear  dropped  upon  her  pale  brow. 
As  he  turned  to  leave  the  room,  Alice  stretched 
out  her  little  thin  hand,  and  said  —  "  Don't  go, 
papa,  your  little  Alice  is  dying." 

"  No,  no,  Allie,"  said  he,  turning  to  hide  his 
tears,  "  you'll  be  better  to-morrow  —  good-bye 
—  papa  will  come  back  pretty  soon." 

"  Come  to  Heaven,  papa,  and  see  little  Alice." 

The  unhappy  father  left  the  room,  and  soon 
after  he  might  have  been  seen  hurrying  away 
to  the  gaming-table.  Faster  and  faster  he  hur- 
ried on,  as  if  to  leave  his  very  thoughts  behind. 

"  Poor  little  Allie !  "  thought  he.  "  Going  to 
Heaven — children  with  wings  —  I  wonder  what 
put  such  thoughts  into  the  child's  head  ?  Go- 
ing to  Heaven  —  I  wonder  if  there  is  a  Heaven 
or  not —  I  wish  I  knew —  I  almost  wish  I  had 


GUARDIAX    ANGELS.  15 

staid  with  poor  little  Alice  —  I'll  go  back  —  no, 
wife  will  think  I  am  anxious  —  I'll  go  to-night 
and  try  to  win,  and  then  I'll  stay  with  wife 
and  Alice,  and  talk  with  her  about  Heaven, 
ha!  She  is  a  good  child,  though !  anyhow  — 
what  if  she  should  die  ?  I  almost  wish  I  had 
staid  at  home." 

******** 

"  Ah,  ha !  Merton,"  said  a  fellow-gambler, 
"we  are  rather  late  to-night.  They  will  take 
the  advantage  of  us." 

"  Yes,  —  I  wish  I  had  stayed  at  home." 

"  Poh !  your  wife  has  been  crying,  hey  ?  " 

«  No  — but " 

"  Here,  here's  the  No.  —  what  are  you  think- 
ing of,  Merton?" 

Once  seated  at  the  gaming-table,  home  and 
its  inmates  were  forgotten.  Deeper  and  deeper 
grew  the  excitement  of  the  game  ;  wager  upon 
wager  was  laid  down,  until  one  thought,  only, 
pervaded  each  mind.  "  Who  should  win  ! " 
The  wine-cup  was  passed  round  —  eyes  flashed 
with  intense  excitement — loud  bursts  of  laugh- 
ter echoed  round  the  dimly  lighted  room,  till  at 
length  the  game  closed.  All  was  still  as  mid- 
night for  a  moment,  and  then  —  "  William 


16  GUARDIAN    ANGELS. 

Merton  up  for  three  thousand  dollars!"  shouted 
a  dozen  voices  in  a  breath. 

"  There,  now,"  said  one,  w  dja't  you  wish  you 
had  stayed  at  home  ?  Guess  the  dBar  woman 
won't  cry  when  you  show  her  that ;  ha !  ha !  " 

"  Can't  tell,"  thought  Morton ;  for  home  and 
his  dear  Alice  just  then  darted  through  his  mind. 
Hastily  he  gathered  up  his  wicked  treasure,  and, 
as  he  hastened  out,  he  glanced  at  his  w&tcli.  — 
"Passed  twelve!  'Tis  bad,  I  declare;  I  told 
wife  I'd  be  at  home  at  eleven.  Well.  I've  v;on, 
and  'tis  the  last  time  I'll  go  there,  a«y  'iow!  •" 

"What!  the  last  time,  is  it?"  fcai.d  a  well 
known  voice.  "  You  think,  then,  you  will  es- 
cape with  all  this  booty,  hey  ?  We  shall  see," 
thought  he.  "  Now,  Merton,"  suid  the  wily 
friend,  stepping  forward,  and  putting  his  arm 
within  Merton's,  "don't  give  up  so!  you've 
made  well  to-night,  and  there  is  no  hurt  in  it  at 
all.  Keep  on  in  the  money-making  line,  is  my 
advice  to  you,  take  it  as  you  may.  But  good 
night,  my  friend ;  remember  next  Tuesday,  and 
show  yourself  a  man.  Good-night;  don't  forget 
to  show  your  wife  the  money ;  ha !  ha ! ' 

"  Not  till  I  see  how  Alice  is,"  thought  he ; 
and  hurried  on,  ever  and  anon  thinking  what 


GUARDIAN    ANGELS.  17 

new  investment  he  would  make,  and  what  pres- 
ents he  would  make  his  wife  and  Alice.  Vain 
dreamer!  Thou  knowest  not  the  grief  that 
awaits  thee. 

Again  William  Merton  is  standing  by  his 
own  room  door,  lost  in  thought.  Why  does  he 
hesitate?  why  listen  so  attentively  with  his 
hand  on  the  latch  ?  Why  do  sad  forebodings 
and  feelings  of  remorse  enter  his  mind  ?  With 
trembling  hand  he  lifts  the  latch,  and  starts  at 
the  sound,  so  deep  was  the  stillness  around  him. 
His  wife  met  him  in  the  hall. 

"  O  William !  why  didn't  you  come  ?  " 

"  Why !  haven't  I  ?  How  is  she  ?  "  He  could 
not  say  Alice,  for  he  read  the  worst  of  his  fears 
in  his  wife's  mournful  face. 

"  Is  she  worse  ?  " 

«  O  William,  Allie,  little  Allie,  is " 

"Is  what?"  said  he,  springing  to  the  bedside. 

O,  stricken  father !  Call  her  not  —  she  is 
gone !  Thy  voice  she  cannot  hear !  Thy  kiss 
she  cannot  feel!  Thy  tears  she  cannot  see! 
Yet  weep,  strong  man,,  and  let  those  scalding 
tears  wash  guilty  stains  from  out  your  sinful 
heart. 

"  O  God ! "  he  cried  in  bitterness  of  woe 
2 


18  GT7ABDIAN    ANGELS. 

"why  did'st  them  take  my  sweet  little  Alice 
from  me  ?  O  Alice !  why  did  I  not  stay  at 
home  with  you  ?  •  why  did  I  leave  you  when 
you  wished  me  to  stay  ?  All  for  money  !  mon- 
ey !  What  is  money  now  to  me !  Will  it  put 
life  into  that  cold  clay  ?  Will  it  bring  back 
Alice?  Oh!  had  I  listened  to  the  voice  of  my 
dying  child !  I  never  will  go  again,  Allie,  nev- 
er !  What  is  all  the  money  I  won  to-night  in 
exchange  for  my  darling  Allie  ? "  thought  he, 
feeling  for  his  pocket-book.  "  What !  Gone ! " 
a  crimson  flush  passed  over  his  face,  and,  after 
searching  more  carefully,  he  exclaimed,  in  a 
tone  of  bitter  vexation  —  "  the  villain  has  rob- 
bed me !  I'm  ruined  forever !  The  villain !  I'll 
meet  him  —  I'll  have  satisfaction,  either  my 
money  or " 

"  William,  William,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  who 
had  just  come  in. as  he  spoke  the  last  words, 
"  what  are  you  saying  ?  " 

"  Saying,  why  I'm  ruined,  that's  what  I  say ; " 
and  he  bowed  his  head  and  wept. 

"  Don't,  William,  grieve  so ;  all  may  yet  be 
well.  Little  Alice,  we  hope,  has  gone  to  rest. 
Gone,  I  trust,  to  Heaven,  where  she  will  be  far 
happier  than  she  could  be  here.  Let  us,  Wil- 


GUARDIAN    ANGELS.  19 

liam,  so  live   that  we  may  hope   to  join   her 
there." 

"  Talk  not  of  Heaven  to  me,  —  I'm  wicked ! 
oh,  how  wicked!  Guilty,  yes,  guilty!  Did 
not  the  angels  look  sad  when  my  angel  Alice 
asked  if  papa  would  come  ?  Ah !  1  have  been 
a  wicked,  sinful  man !  Do  I  not  deserve  all 
this,  and  more  ?  It  is  right  —  God  is  just ! 
But  I  will,  henceforth,  try  to  live  a  better 
man!" 

Mrs.  Merton  affectionately  took  his  hand,  for 
her  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance,  and  togeth- 
er they  knelt  by  the  bedside  where  the  little 
clay-cold  form  of  Alice  lay  enshrouded,  and  for 
the  first  time,  since  by  his  mother's  knee,  in. 
early  childhood,  did  William  Merton's  lips 
move  in  silent  prayen  And  when  he  rose  and 
pressed  a  kiss  on  the  cold  brow  of  the  little 
Alice,  he  was  an  altered  man. 

******** 

Years  passed  away,  and  again  the  gentle 
wife  watched  by  the  bedside  of  the  dying. 
'Twas  not  the  same  room  —  oh,  no!  'twas 
much  smaller,  and  more  poorly  furnished.  The 
same  kind  and  careful  hand  bathed  the  parched 
lips,  and  wiped  the  death-damp  from  his  mar- 


20  GUARDIAN   ANGELS. 

ble  brow.     But  who  is  the  sufferer  ?     Ah !  i&  it 
the  same  rich  William  Merton  ?     Even  so. 

"  Dear  wife,"  said  the  dying  man,  "  I  must 
soon  leave  you.  The  sum  I  have  saved  for  you 
and  our  dear  children  is  small  —  take  it  —  and 
rejoice  that  it  has  been  honestly  earned.  I  die 
happy  —  farewell  —  Allie  —  I  come." 

Guardian  angels !  do  we  doubt  them  ? 

Night  by  night,  and  day  by  day ; 
Could  we  guide  our  steps  without  them, 

Where  would  wavering  fancy  stray  ? 
Ev'ry  noble  thought  that's  spoken, 

Ev'ry  smile,  and  ev'ry  sigh, 
.  Are  they  not  a  sign  —  a  token  — 

That  some  guardian  angel's  by  ? 

Guardian  angels,  hovering  o'er  us, 

Keep  the  soul,  in  mercy,  pure ; 
Had  we  not  bright  hope  before  us, 

Could  we  this  frail  world  endure  ? 
Then,  be  sure,  that  ever  near  us 

Voices  come  from  forms  unseen, 
Breathed  by  angels  sent  to  cheer  us, 

"Watching  earth  and  heav'n  between ! 


GUARDIAN   ANGELS.  21 


GUARDIAN  ANGELS. 

CHILD  of  earth,  and  child  of  heaven ! 

Each  alike  in  form  and  face, 
Save  that  wings  to  one  are  given, 

Something  too  of  loftier  grace. 

Yet  the  trustful  and  the  true 

Dwell  in  meekness  with  the  other — 
These  alone  it  was  that  drew 

From  the  skies  its  angel-brother. 

Half  in  blindness,  half  in  trust, 
Guardian  arms  around  him  pressed, 

Sleeps  the  child  of  time  and  dust, 
Shielded  by  his  cherub  guest. 

Angel  child !  and  child  of  earth ! 

Semblance  ye  of  hidden  things ; 
One  hath  reached  its  spirit-birth, 

One  but  waiteth  for  its  wings. 


22  THE  ANGEL  OF  PATIENCE. 


THE  ANGEL  OF  PATIENCE. 

To  weary  hearts,  to  mourning  homes, 
God's  meekest  angel  gently  comes : 
No  power  has  he  to  banish  pain, 
Or  give  us  back  our  lost  again  ; 
And  yet,  in  tenderest  love,  our  dear 
And  heavenly  Father  sends  him  here. 

There's  quiet  in  that  angel's  glance  — 
There's  rest  in  his  still  countenance : 
He  mocks  no  grief  with  idle  cheer, 
Nor  wounds  with  words  the  mourner's  ear ; 
But  ills  and  woes  he  may  not  cure  — 
He  kindly  learns  us  to  endure. 

Angel  of  patience !   sent  to  calm 
Our  feverish  brow  with  cooling  palm  — 
To  lay  the  storms  of  hope  and  fear, 
And  reconcile  life's  smile  and  tear ; 
The  throbs  of  wounded  pride  to  still, 
And  make  our  own  our  Father's  will. 

O  thou  who  mournest  on  thy  way, 
With  longings  for  the  close  of  day ! 
He  walks  with  thee  —  that  angel  kind  — 
And  gently  whispers,  "  Be  resigned  ! . 
Bear  up,  bear  on  —  the  end  shall  tell 
The  dear  Lord  ordereth  all  things  well." 


THE   SONG   OF  ANGELS.  23 


THE  SONG  OP  ANGELS. 

IN  the  sweet  solitude  of  night, 

While  tired  Nature  seeks  repose, 
I  seem  to  hear  light  rustling  wings  — 

And,  as  my  weary  eyes  unclose, 
Arrayed  in  robes  of  righteousness, 

An  angel-band  appears  above ; 
And  on  their  golden  harps  they  sing, 

In  sweetest  tones,  of  heavenly  love. 


• 


"  "We  come"  —  they  sing  from  that  bright  world, 

Beyond  those  shining  orbs  afar, 
That  spangle  o'er  yon  azure  dome, 

Sweet  messages  of  love  to  bear : 
We  come  to  dissipate  death's  gloom, 

That  now  enshrouds  this  beauteous  earth ; 
To  sing  of  life  immortal,  ere 

These  planetary  spheres  had  birth. 

"  Ere  Time  his  circling  course  began, 

This  Universe  our  Father  planned  ; 
In  wisdom  He  the  soul  ordained, 

And  worlds  came  forth  at  his  command  — 
Unnumbered  worlds  —  unknown  to  earth, 

Chiming,  as  they  forever  shine 
In  orbits  all  harmonious, 

<  Our  God  is  love  —  his  hand  divine ! ' 


24  ANGEL    MUSIC. 

"  And  as  those  glorious  notes  roll  on, 

Our  Father's  realms  echo  above, 
And  all  the  innumerable  throng, 

Adoring,  shout  — '  Our  God  is  love!' 
O  wisdom  infinite !  0  love 

Unspeakable ! — let  evermore 
Thy  soul  with  joy  see  through  death's  gloom, 

In  God  confide  —  his  name  adore. 

"  Where  Death  appears,  on  wings  of  love, 

Unseen,  unknown,  to  earth  we  come, 
To  bear  the  disembodied  soul 

..Up  to  our  Father's  heavenly  home. 
0  then,  rejoice !  no  terrors  fear ! 

And  as  to  other  realms  we  soar 
Away, '  Hallelujah  !'  ever 

Shout '  Hallelujah  ! '  evermore  ! " 


ANGEL  MUSIC. 

WHEN  the  twilight  weeps  'neath  the  azure  veil, 
And  the  sweet  flowers  sigh  as  the  day  grows  pale, 
Then  an  angel  comes  on  her  silver  wings, 
And  a  golden  harp  in  her  hand  she  brings ; 

Soft,  sweet  and  low, 

Rich  numbers  flow, 
And  I  hush  my  breath  while  the  angel  sings  1 


ANGEL   MUSIC.  '     25 

Oh !  the  love-rays  fall  from  her  dew-filled  eye, 
Like  the  soft  star-beams  from  the  twilight  sky, 
And  she  fans  my  brow  with  her  fragrant  wings, 
While  she  gently  strikes  on  the  golden  strings  ! 

Soft,  sweet,  and  low, 

Rich  numbers  flow, 
And  I  weep  for  joy  while  the  angel  sings ! 

Like  the  soft  South  wind,  when  he  woos  the  flowers, 
Like  the  glad  bird's  note,  in  his  love-wreath'd  bowers, 
Like  the  thrilling  sigh  of  the  wind's  harp-strings, 
Are  the  rapture-tones  that  the  angel  sings ! 

Soft,  sweet  and  low, 

Glad  breathings  flow, 
And  I  dream  of  love  while  the  angel  sings  ! 

Like  the  plaintive  voice  of  the  moaning  pine, 
Like  the  wild,  wild  wail  of  the  heaving  brine, 
Like  the  groans  that  sweep  on  the  night-wind's  wings, 
Is  the  strange,  sad  song  that  the  angel  sings  ! 

Dark,  deep  and  low, 

Sad  moanings  flow, 
And  I  weep  o'er  the  lost  while  the  angel  sings  ! 

Then  a  lofty  strain  on  the  rich  harp  swells, 
And  the  soul  of  bliss  in  its  music  dwells ; 


26      •  THE   FLIGHT    OF   ANGELS. 

And  the  tide  of  song  o'er  the  glowing  strings 
Flows  fresh  and  free  from  the  Eden  springs  ! 

Soft,  sweet  and  low 

Rich  breathings  flow, 
And  I  dream  of  Heaven  while  the  angel  sings ! 


THE  FLIGHT   OF  ANGELS. 

[Written  for  a  Monument  to  two  English  Children,  in  the 
Protestant  Burial  Ground  at  Rome.] 

Two  Pilgrims  for  the  Holy  Land 

Have  left  our  lonely  door, 
Two  sinless  angels,  hand  in  hand, 

Have  reached  the  promised  shore. 

We  saw  them  take  their  heavenward  flight, 
Through  floods  of  drowning  tears ; 

And  felt  in  woe's  bewildering  night 
The  agony  of  years. 

But  now  we  watch  the  golden  path 

Their  blessed  feet  have  trod, 
And  know  that  voice  was  not  in  wrath 

Which  called  them  both  to  God. 


ANGELS.  27 


ANGELS. 

WHENEVER  we  read — as  we  very  often  do 
—  in  the  Old  Testament  history,  of  an  Angel, 
(i.  e.  Messenger)  of  the  Lord,  appearing  to  any 
one,  such  an  Angel  seems  to  have  very  seldom 
been  (as  in  the  New  Testament  history)  a 
"  Ministering  Spirit, "  —  a  person  created  by 
the  Lord,  and  employed  in  his  service.. 

You  can  easily  understand  that  either  any 
person,  or  any  thing',  may  be  employed  by  the 
Lord,  to  intimate  his  will  -«—  to  convey  his  mes- 
sages to  men,  —  or  to  perform  any  service  to 
them.  And  whoever  —  or  whatever  is  so  em- 
ployed, becomes  God's  Angel  or  Messenger. 
Whether  it  be  a  supernatural  flame  —  or  any 
other  appearance  —  or  a  voice  from  Heaven  — 
or  a  man  —  or  any  other  personal  Agent,  of  a 
different  nature  from,  man,  —  in  all  cases,  that 
person  or  thing  by  which  the  Lord  holds  com- 
munications with  mankind,  is  called  his  Angel, 
or  Messenger. 

And  since  the  word  "  Angel,"  originally  sig- 
nifies simply  a  messenger,  hence  our  Sacred 


28  ANGELS. 

writers  often  found  it  necessary,  in  order  to 
prevent  mistakes,  to  use  the  expression,  "  An- 
gel of  the  Lord"  to  distinguish  such  a  mes- 
senger as  they  are  speaking  of,  from  any  or- 
dinary messenger. 

Now  in  the  Old  Testament  history,  when 
an  Angel  is  mentioned  as  appearing,  it  is  gen- 
erally some  visible  object,  in  which  there  was 
an  immediate  manifestation  of  the  Lord  him- 
self; so  that  you  will  frequently  find  the  ex- 
pressions, "  the  Lord,"  and  the  "  Angel  of  the 
Lord,"  used  indiscriminately  to  denote  the 
same  thing. 

Thus,  where  we  read  of  God's  first  mani- 
festation of  himself  to  Moses  in  the  wilderness, 
in  a  flame  of  fire  in  a  bush,  we  are  told  that 
the  Lord  spake  to  Moses  out  of  the  flame,  say- 
ing, "J  am  the  God  of  Abraham"  etc.  And 
Moses  "  fell  on  his  face  and  worshipped." 
Now,  if  you  look  to  the  speech  of  Stephen  as 
recorded  in  the  Book  of  Acts  (chap.  vii.  30), 
you  will  find  him  speaking  of  the  Angel  of  the 
Lord  appearing  to  Moses  in  a  flame  of  fire. 
And  he  again  mentions  (v.  38,)  the  "Angel 
which  spake  unto  Moses  in  Mount  Sinai." 
Now  we  all  know  that  what  was  spoken  there, 


* 


ANGELS.  29 

began  with  "  J  am  "the  Lord  thy  God  who 
brought  thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt."  It  was 
the  Lord  himself,  who  held  communication 
with  his  servant,  through  the  means  of  the 
appearance  of  a  flame,  accompanied  with 
"  thunderings  and  voices,"  etc.  And  the  flame, 
is  thence  called  his  Messenger,  or  Angel.  No 
created  person  was  here  employed.  And  hence 
it  is,  that  we  often  find  (as  I  observed  just 
above),  the  two  expressions,  "the  Lord,  and 
the  Angel  of  the  Lord,"  used  indiscriminately, 
and  with  the  signification. 

For  instance,  in  the  Book  of  Exodus  (chap, 
xxiii.  v.  20,)  "  Behold,  I  send  an  Angel  before 
thee,  to  keep  thee  in  the  way,  (viz.  the  fiery  and 
cloudy  pillar,  which  accompanied  the  Israelites 
in  their  journeyings,)  and  to  bring  thee  into  the 
place  which  I  have  prepared. 

"  Beware  of  him,  and  obey  his  voice ;  pro- 
voke him  not ;  for  he  will  not  pardon  your 
transgressions ;  for  my  name  is  in  him :  (that 
is,  it  is  a  manifestation  of  my  especial  presence 
and  agency;  which  in  Scripture,  is  often, call- 
ed «  Name '),  but  if  thou  shalt  indeed  obey  his 
voice,  and  do  all  that  /  speak"  (here  you  ob- 
serve that  "  he,"  and  "  I,"  are  used  indiscrimi- 


30  ANGELS. 

^_  y  *    I  •  • 

nately,)  "  then  I  will  be  an  enemy  unto  thine 
enemies,"  etc. 

What  has  been  said  of  the  use  of  the  word 
Angel  in  these  passages,  will  for  the  most  part 
apply,  as  to  the  essential  points,  to  many 
others  in  the  Old  Testament  history;  even  in 
those  places  in  which  the  human  form  is 
assumed. 

For  instance,  in  the 'appearance  of  Angels  to 
Abraham,  and  to  Lot,  (Gen.  xviii.)  of  an  An- 
gel to  Balaam,  (Numb.  xxiL),  and  to  Manoah 
and  his  wife  (Judges  xiii.) ;  and  in  several 
others,  you  will  find,  on  an  attentive  perusal, 
that  the  Angels  there  mentioned  (at  least  in 
the  last  two  places),  were  not  created  persons, 
but  manifestations  of  the  Lord  himself.  And 
accordingly  in  most  of  these  passages,  you 
read  of  DIVINE  worship  being  offered  and  ac- 
cepted. To  the  Angels,  on  the  contrary,  men- 
tioned in  the  New  Testament  —  the  minister- 
ing spirits  recorded  as  appearing  —  divine  wor- 
ship either  is  not  offered,  or  is  carefully  reject- 
ed. "  See  thou  do  it  not!  "  (says  the  Angel  to 
John,  in  the  Book  of  Revelation,  chap,  xxii.), 
"  for  I  am  thy  fellow-servant." 

"  The  holiness  of  Angels  is  indicated  in  their 


ANGELS.  31 

cheerful  and  uniform  obedience.  They  are 
often  spoken  of,  as  being  sent  by  God  upon 
various  missions  to  the  earth.  My  God  hath 
sent  his  Angel,  and  hath  shut  the  lions'  mouths 
that  they  have  not  hurt  me,"  Dan.  vi.  22.  "  In 
the  sixth  month  the  Angel  Gabriel,  was  sent 
from  God  unto  a  city  of  Galilee,  named  Naza- 
reth," Luke  i.  26.  "  Now  I  know  of  a  surety, 
that  the  Lord  hath  sent  his  Angel,  and  hath 
delivered  me  out  of  the  hand  of  Herod,"  Acts 
xii.  11. 

Thus  we  find  that  the  Angels  are  ever  ready 
to  obey  their  Sovereign,  and  execute  his  wilL 
Their  plans  and  purposes  are  in  unison  with 
the  Divine  mind.  They  have  no  selfish  ends 
in  view,  no  unholy  desires  to  gratify.  They 
have  no  higher  ambition  than  to  execute,  with 
fidelity  and  success,  the  commands  of  their 
King.  They  delight  in  serving.  They  glory 
in  their  loyalty.  They  covet  no  other  state,  for 
they  have  reached  the  highest  attainment  by 
created  intelligences.  They  can  go  no  higher 
without  being  infinite.  They  can  occupy  no 
loftier  positions  without  being  gods. 

The  existence  indeed  of  created  persons 
called  Angels,  seems  to  have  been  believed,  in 


32  ANGELS. 

early  times,  by  the  greater  part  of  the  Jews ; 
though  the  sect  of  the  Sadducees  denied  it. 
And  we  find  mention  of  such  beings,  in  several 
parts  of  the  Old  Testament.  But  in  far  great- 
er number  of  the  places  (in  the  historical 
books),  in  which  the  appearance  of  an  Angel  is 
recorded,  it  will  be  found  to  have  been  a  mani- 
festation of  the  Lord  himself. 

Such  then  being  the  different  characters  gen- 
erally, of  the  Angels,  noticed  in  the  Old,  and 
in  the  New  Testament  histories  respectively; 
you  cannot  but  perceive  the  importance  of 
constantly  keeping  in  mind. the  distinctions  I 
have  been  pointing  out;  lest  you  should  im- 
pute false  ivorship  to  those  persons  who  in  the 
Old  Testament  are  mentioned  as  offering  ado- 
ration to  what  is  called  "the  Angel  of  the 
Lord." 


EARTH'S  ANGELS.  83 


EARTH'S  ANGELS. 

WHY  come  not  spirits  from  the  realms  of  glory 

To  visit  earth,  as  in  the  days  of  old, 
The  times  of  sacred  writ  and  ancient  story  ? 

Is,  heaven  more  distant  ?  or  has  earth  grown  cold  ? 

Oft  have  I  gazed,  when  sunset  clouds,  receding, 
Waved  like  rich  banners  of  a  host  gone  by, 

To  catch  the  gleam  of  some  white  pinion  speeding 
Along  the  confines  of  the  glowing  sky;  — 

And  oft,  when  midnight  stars,  in  distant  dullness, 
Were  calmly  burning,  listened  late  and  long ; 

But  Nature's  pulse  beat  on  in  solemn  stillness, 
Bearing  no  echo  of  the  seraph's  song. 

To  Bethlem's  air  was  their  last  anthem  given, 
When  other  stars  before  the  One  grew  dim  ? 

Was  their  last  presence  known  in  Peter's  prison  ? 
Or  where  exulting  martyrs  raised  their  hymn? 

And  are  they  all  within  the  veil  departed  ? 

There  gleams  no  wing  along  the  empyrean  now ; 
And  many  a  tear  from  human  eyes  has  started, 

Since  angel  touch  has  calmed  a  mortal  brow. 
3 


34  EARTH'S  ANGELS. 

No ;  earth  has  angels,  though  their  forms  are  moulded 
But  of  such  clay  as  fashions  all  helow ; 

Though  harps  are  wanting,  and  bright  pinions  folded, 
We  know  them  by  the  love-light  on  their  brow. 

I  have  seen  angels  by  the  sick  one's  pillow ; 

Theirs  was  the  soft  tone  and  the  soundless  tread ; 
Where  smitten  hearts  were  drooping  like  the  willow, 

They  stood  "  between  the  living  and  the  dead." 

There  have  been  angels  in  the  gloomy  prison  — 
In  crowded  halfe  —  by  the  lone  widow's  hearth ; 

And  where  they  passed,  the  fallen  hath  uprisen  — 
The  giddy  paused  —  the  mourner's  hope  had  birth. 

I  have  seen  one  whose  eloquence  commanding 
Roused  the  rich  echoes  of  the  human  breast, 

The  blandishments  of  wealth  and  ease  withstanding, 
That  Hope  might  reach  the  suffering  and  oppressed. 

And  by  his  side  there  moved  a  form  of  beauty, 
Strewing  sweet  flowers  along  his  path  of  life, 

And  looking  up  with  meek  and  love-lent  duty : 
I  call  her  angel,  but  he  catted  her  wife. 

0,  many  a  spirit  walks  the  world  unheeded, 
That,  when  its  veil  of  sadness  is  laid  down, 

Shall  soar  aloft  with  pinions  unimpeded, 
And  wear  its  glory  like  a  starry  crown. 


THE   ANGEL   LAND.  35 


THE  ANGEL   LAND. 

THIS  world  is  beautiful,  'tis  true,  — 

But  there's  a  brighter  world  than  this 
Beyond  that  dome  of  wavey  blue,  — 

A  home  of  everlasting  bliss  ; 
That  Spirit  Land,  whose  canopy 

Is  never  sullied  with  a  cloud ; 
Where  clad  in  spotless  drapery, 

Saints  are  in  adoration  bow'd; 
A  myriad  band  of  vestals  raise 
Their  voices  in  Jehovah's  praise. 

There,  purling  streams  and  shady  bowers, 

With  fields  of  amaranthine  hue, 
And  beds  of  bright  ambrosial  flowers  — 

Impearled  with  heavenly  dew 
On  every  hand,  to  please  the  eye, 

Are  spread  in  loveliness  —  and  there, 
Than  those  of  sultry  Araby, 

The  breezes  richer  perfumes  bear ; 
There,  too,  such  melody  13  heard 
As  never  mortal's  bosom  stirred. 


1 


36  OUR    HOUSEHOLD   ANGEL. 


OUK  HOUSEHOLD  ANGEL. 

AMIDST  the  melody  of  June, 

When  buds  were  bursting  into  bloom, 
And  earth  seemed  filled  with  Eden's  grace, 
Fit  for  an  angel's  dwelling-place, 
God  sent  with  us  to  dwell 

A  blue-eyed  babe  with  golden  hair, 
And  dimpled  arms  and  forehead  fair  ; 
0  !  life  seems  richest,  rarest  bliss, 
As  her  warm  ruby  lips  we  kiss, 
Our  darling  baby,  Nell. 

Our  "  household  angel,"  her  bright  smile 
With  radiance  lights  our  home  the  while  ; 
God  grant  her  little  dimpled  feet 
Through  life  may  tread  'mong  blossoms  sweet- 
0  !  guard  our  treasure  well. 

Dear,  blessed  gift  !  at  morn,  at  even, 
Our  prayer  for  her  goes  up  to  Heaven  ; 
For  earth  would  be  a  dreary  place, 
Without  the  darling  cherished  face 
Of  our  sweet  baby,  Nell  ! 


"ANOTHER  AXGEL."  37 


"ANOTHER  ANGEL." 

"I  WILL  bathe  my  lovM  boy  in  the  pure  limpid  wave, 
And  robe  him  myself  in  the  garb  of  the  grave  ; 
With  my  own  tender  hand  have  I  closed  his  fond  eyes, 
Ne'er  to  open  again  till  he  wakes  in  the  skies. 

Let  his  shroud  be  the  robe  that  hath  decked  him  of  yore, 
By  my  fond  fingers  traced  with  affection  all  o'er ; 
Spotless  plaits  of  the  lawn-shade  his  marble  limbs  fold, 
O !  he  greets  me  no  longer!  his  form  waxes  cold. 

Once  again  am  I  smoothing  his  soft  silky  hair — 
Methinks  I've  given  birth  to  a  bright  angel  heir! 
While  I  pluck  a  pale  flower  hi  his  clasped  hands  to  lay, 
Even  death  breathes  a  sigh  o'er  such  beauteous  clay. 

What  !  could  I  permit  e'en  the  kindest  friend's  hand 
To  robe  my  sweet  Willie  for  Heaven !  Where  a  band 
With  his  grandsire  awaits  him  —  his  glory  untold  — 
With  their  love  like  a  garment  around  him  to  fold  ? 

O,  my  father!  receive  thou  this  jewel  of  mine! 
All  fresh  from  my  heart  is  it  torn  from  its  shrine ; 
To  our  God  I  resign  him  —  my  Father,  and  thine ; 
Lo !  the  mantle  of  Levi  yet  rests  on  thy  line ! " 


38  SOCIETY   OP  ANGELS. 


SOCIETY"  OF  ANGELS. 

THE  present  ministration  of  angels  to  Chris- 
tian pilgrims  establishes  a  relation  of  the  deepest 
interest.  The  particular  ways  and  instances 
of  their  special  efforts,  as  our  allies,  we  know 
not.  nor  do  we  need  to  know.  It  is  enough  for 
us  to  be  assured  that  an  immense  host  of  these 
efficient  guardians  are  in  attendance  upon  the 
heirs  of  salvation.  Dwelling  as  we  do  in  this 
tabernacle  of  flesh,  burdened  with  infirmities, 
assailed  by  temptations,  what  consolation  it  is 
to  know  that  there  is  sympathy  for  us,  and  co- 
operation with  us  in  the  world  of  spirits  !  Let 
us  never  forget  that,  while  we  have  to  contend 
not  only  with  indwelling  sin,  and  the  dangerous 
influences  of  surrounding  scenes,  but  also  to 
wrestle  with  principalities,  powers,  the  rulers 
of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  spiritual  wicked- 
ness in  high  places,  still,  they  that  be  with  us 
are  more  than  they  that  be  with  them.  If,  as 
to  the  young  man  with  the  prophet,  a  view 
were  granted  us  into  the  surrounding  sphere  of 
spiritual  being,  or,  if  the  vision  of  faith  were 
sufficiently  clarified  and  enlarged,  we  too  should 


SOCIETY   OF  ANGELS.  39 

I 

see  the  "  mountains  full  of  horses  and  chariots 
of  fire  round  about."  Verily,  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  encampeth  round  about  them  that  fear 
Him,  and  delivereth  them. 

Nor  are  low  and  lowly  Christians  overlooked 
by  these  ministering  spirits.  It  has  not  been 
merely  to  the  noble  and  learned  of  earth  that 
they  have  made  their  most  signal  manifesta- 
tions, but  also  to  the  outcast  bondwoman,  to 
the  houseless  prophet,  to  ignorant  shepherds, 
and  imprisoned  fishermen.  Gold,  purple,  er- 
mine, and  rags,  and  outward  wretchedness,  are 
all  one  in  their  eyes.  "  Take  heed,"  said  Christ, 
u  that  ye  despise  "not  one  of  these  little  ones, 
for  I  say  unto  you,  that  in  heaven  their  angels 
do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father  which 
is  in  heaven."  The  most  obscure  of  God's 
people  on  earth  share  in  the  sympathy  of  angels 
in  yonder  world  of  light,  who  stand  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  King  of  kings.  What  ground  of 
humble  exultation  is  here;  and  what  pitiable 
arrogance  for  any  to  despise  them ! 

"  I  have  seen  angels  by  the  sick  one's  pillow ; 

Theirs  was  the  soft  tone  and  the  soundless  tread ; 
When  smitten  hearts  were  drooping  like  the  willow, 

They  stood  '  between  the  living  and  the  dead.' 


40  SOCIETY   OF  ANGELS. 

"  There  have  been  angels  in  the  gloomy  prison ; 

In  crowded  halls  ;  by  the  lone  widow's  hearth ; 
And  when  they  passed,  the  fallen  have  uprisen, 

The  giddy  paused — the  mourner's  hope  had  birth." 

"  O,  everlasting  God !  who  hast  ordained  and 
constituted  the  services  of  angels  and  men  in  a 
wonderful  order ;  grant  that,  as  thy  holy  angels 
always  do  thy  service  in  heaven,  so,  by  thy 
appointment,  they  may  succor  and  defend  us 
on  earth. 

At  the  hour  of  death  their  services  are  emi- 
nently enjoyed.  Dying  seems  ordinarily  so 
much  like  passing  suddenly  into  the  dark,  like 
plunging  into  an  unfathomed  sea,  that  the  soul 
shrinks,  and  longs  for  some  hand  to  guide  and 
uphold  it.  The  thought  of  going  alone  into 
those  untried  scenes  not  unfrequently  occasions 
trembling.  But  it  does  not  go  alone.  Angels 
are,  as  Tertullian  calls  them,  Evacatores  ani ma- 
rum. 

"  Hark,  they  whisper  —  angels  say, 
Sister  spirit,  come  away." 

They  who  have  ministered  unseen,  now  be- 
come visible  guards.  The  departing  soul  is 


SOCIETY   OF  ANGELS.  41 

borne  to  its  everlasting  rest  by  the  chariot  of 
Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof.  "  It  came  to 
pass  that  the  beggar  died,  and  was  carried  by 
angels  into  Abraham's  bosom."  Yes,  Lazarus, 
without  fortune,  without  friends,  without  home, 
without  clothing,  without  food,  exposed  in  the 
open  air,  and  covered  with  sores,  —  Lazarus, 
whom  a  moment  before  the  meanest  servant 
of  the  rich  man  held  in  contempt,  blessing  his 
stars  that  he  was  not  so  forlorn  and  wretched ; 
he,  whom  a  moment  before,  none  but  dogs  cared 
for,  is  now  carried  by  angels  into  Abraham's 
bosom.  A  vast  convoy  of  mighty,  holy  shining 
ones  bear  that  despised  beggar's  soul'  high  up 
in  the  Paradise  of  God. 

What,  then,  if,  in  the  closing  scenet  you  feel 
as  solitary  and  friendless  as  he  who  was  laid 
at  the  gate  of  Dives?  Think  of  the  waiting 
crowd,  into  whose  friendly  presence  and  kind 
ministrations  death  will  introduce  you.  Gently 
will  they  bear  you  in  their  arms  to  your  Father's 
house.  Familiarize  yourself  with  this  animat- 
ing thought.  In  the  midst  of  deep  contempla- 
tion on  his  death-bed,  Richard  Hooker  remark- 
ed:  "I  am  meditating  the  number  and  nature 
of  angels,  and  their  blessed  obedience  and  or- 


42  SOCIETY   OF  ANGELS. 

der,  without  which  peace  could  not  be  in  heaven , 
and.  Oh  that  it  might  be  so  on  earth ! "  "  Now, 
angels,"  said  an  early  pastor  of  New  England, 
when  dying,  "  now,  angels,  do  your  office ! " 
while  Dr.  Bateman  exclaimed :  "  What  glory ! 
the  angels  are  waiting  for  me !  Lord  Jesus, 
receive  my  spirit !  Farewell ! " 

When,  reader,  your  face  shall  be  toward 
Padan-Aram,  and  you  light  upon  a  certain 
place  to  tarry  there  all  night,  and,  with  the 
stones  thereof  for  your  pillow,  you  lie  down  in 
that  place  to  sleep,  may  you  behold  the  angels 
of  God  ascending  and  descending  between 
heaven  and  earth!  YOU  will  find  it  mine  other 
but  the  house  of  God;  it  will  be  the  gate  of 
heaven. 


THE  ANGEL'S  MISSION.  43 


THE  ANGEL'S  MISSION. 

ONCE  on  a  time,  from  scenes  of  light 
An  angel  winged  his  airy  flight : 
Down  to  this  earth  in  haste  he  carne, 
And  wrote  in  lines  of  living  flame 
These  words,  on  every  thing  he  met :  — 
"  Cheer  up  ;  be  not  discouraged  yet." 

Then  back  to  heaven  with  speed  he  flew, 
Attuned  his  goldeu  harp  anew, 
Whilst  the  angelic  throng  came  round 
To  catch  the  soul-inspiring  sound ; 
And  heaven  was  filled  with  new  delight, 
For  Hope  had  been  to  earth  that  night. 


THE  VEILED  ANGEL. 

WHEN  our  first  parents  were  from  Eden  driven, 
Through  life-long  years  to  bear  a  weary  load ; 

Urging  their  slow,  tired  footsteps  on  to  heaven, 
An  angel  journeyed  with  them  on  the  road. 

The  glory  of  his  face  was  veiled  and  hidden ; 

Thus  its  sweet  radiance  they  failed  to  scan. 
Sin,  by  his  voice,  was  ever,  ever  chidden : 

He  seemed  the  foe,  and  not  the  friend  of  man. 


44  THE   VEILED   ANGEL. 

Whene'er  they  paused  to  gather  deadly  flowers, 
Or  pluck  forbidden  fruit  from  baneful  boughs, 

Or  trifle  with  the  solemn-footed  hours, 

God's  angel  bent  on  them  his  awful  brows. 

If  from  the  narrow  path,  in  pleasing  wonder, 
They  roamed  for  idols  'mid  the  works  of  God : 

He  called  upon  them,  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
And  scourged  them  back  with  an  avenging  rod. 

But  if  tow'rd  heaven  their  eager  footsteps  hurried, 
And  each  obedient,  walked  as  God's  dear  child, 

They  felt  not  half  the  weary  weight  they  carried ; 
The  angel  softly  sp%ke,  and  sweetly  smil'd,  — 

"  On — to  the  Night  of  Death ;  on — to  Life's  Morn- 
ing." 

This  weeping  pair  were  by  the  angel  driven, 
With  many  a  pensive  smile,  and  solemn  warning, 

Until  he  left  them  at  the  gates  of  heaven. 

Then — when  they  never  more  his  aid  need  borrow ; 

Then  —  he  unveiled  at  last  his  radiant  face : 
He  is  the  friend  of  Man  —  his  name  is  Sorrow  — 

He  walks  with  us  and  all  the  human  race. 


AN  ANGEL   TEACHING  PATIENCE.  45 


AN  ANGEL  TEACHING  PATIENCE. 

BESIDE  the  toilsome  way, 
Lowly  and  sad,  by  fruits  and  flowers  unblest, 
Which  my  lone  feet  tread  sadly,  day  by  day, 

Longing  in  vain  for  rest, 

An  angel  softly  walks, 

With  pale,  sweet  face,  and  eyes  cast  meekly  down, 
The  while  from  withered  leaves  and  flowerless  stalks, 

She  weaves  my  fitting  crown.  • 

A  sweet  and  patient  grace,  — 
A  look  of  firm  endurance  true  and  tried, 
Of  suffering  meekly  borne,  rests  on  her  face 

So  pure,  —  so  glorified. 

And  when  my  fainting  heart 
Desponds,  and  murmurs  at  its  adverse  fate, 
Then  quietly  the  angel's  bright  lips  part, 

Murmuring  softly,  "  Wait ! " 

"  Patience ! "  she  meekly  saith : 
"  Thy  Father's  mercies  never  come  too  late ; 
Gird  thee  with  patient  strength  and  trusting  faith, 

And  firm  endurance  wait ! " 


46     LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 


LOSS  OF  NEAK  AND  DEAK  FRIENDS. 

WHILE  travelling  through  the  scenes  of  time, 
afflictions  are  the  means  which  our  Father  in 
Heaven  uses  to  recover  us  from  the  influence  of 
sin,  to  promote  our  usefulness  here  and  our  hap- 
piness hereafter.  It  is  not  enough  to  know  that 
our  suffering  is  just,  but  that  it  is  designed  for  our 
good ;  it  is  not  enough  to  say,  "  this  is  my  grief, 
and  I  mnst  bear  it ;  but  it  is  the  Lord,  my  friend 
and  my  Father.  Let  Him  do  what  seemeth  good 
in  his  sight."  But  it  is  evident,  that  a  hearty  ac- 
quiescence in  the  divine  will,  under  affliction, 
cannot  arise,  but  from  a  knowledge  of  the  Di- 
vine character.  The  child  must  not  only  feel 
that  the  Father  has  a  right  to  chastise  him,  but 
that  his  chastisement  is  the  result  of  paternal 
affection  and  love.  We  may  be  dumb,  and 
not  open  our  mouth,  —  but  in  order  to  render  a 
cheerful  and  grateful  submission,  we  must  see 
the  righteousness,  the  wisdom,  and,  above  all, 
the  kindness,  of  his  dispensations  towards  us. 
Should  we  call  that  goodness  in  a  parent,  or 
the  evidence  of  fatherly  care,  which  would  suf- 
fer him  to  let  his  child  go  unchastised,  when 


LOSS  OP  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.      47 

rebellious  and  disobedient  ?  No  —  it  should 
rather  be  termed  cruelty.  Neither  will  the 
goodness  of  our  Heavenly  Father  fail  to  chastise 
and  correct  his  disobedient  children.  Eternal  love 
decrees,  that  if  his  children  "  forsake  his  law,  and 
walk  not  in  his  judgments ;  if  they  break  his 
statutes,  and  keep  not  his  commandments,  he 
will  visit  their  transgressions  with  the  rod,  and 
their  iniquities  with  stripes."  Yet  the  voice  of 
the  rod  which  we  are  commanded  to  hear,  is, 
"  How  shall  1  give  thee  up,  Ephraim  ?  How 
shall  I  make  thee  as  Admah  ?  How  shall  I  set 
thee  as  Zeboim  ?  My  heart  is  turned  within 
me ;  my  repentings  are  kindled  together." 

Who  can  tell  to  what  extremities  we  might 
have  gone,  if  we  had  not  been  corrected  ? 
Says  David,  "  Before  I  was*  afflicted,  I  went 
astray;  but  now  have  I  learned  to  keep  thy 
precepts."  Who  can  tell  the  evils  we  have 
avoided  by  the  timely  infliction  of  the  rod  ? 
We  were  growing  earthly-minded.  God  sent  an 
east  wind,  and  blasted  the  fruits  of  our  field. 
He  dried  up  the  gourd  of  our  pleasures  at  its 
root.  He  saw  us  placing  our  affections  inordi- 
nately upon  a  lovely  child,  upon  a  husband  or 
wife:  He  commissioned  the  messenger  of 


48  LOSS    OF   NEAR  AND   DEAR   FRIENDS. 

death  to  remove  that  idol.  —  His  faithfulness 
prompted  him  to  remove  from  us  that  which 
he  foresaw  would  prove  our  ruin.  He  called 
us  back  to  himself,  that  we  might  find  our  all 
in  Him.  Afflictions  acted  as  a  curb,  and  pre- 
vented us  from  plunging  into  the  pit  of  wo. 

Afflictions  serve  as  a  test  of  the  Christian 
graces.  "  When  he  hath  tried  me,  I  shall  come 
forth  as  gold."  It  is  the  windy  tempest  that 
tries  the  strength  of  the  vessel.  The  pelting 
rain  proves  the  soundness  of  the  roof. 

"  Trials  make  the  promise  sweet, 

Trials  give  new  life  to  prayer ; 
Trials  bring  me  to  his  feet, 

Lay  me  low  and  keep  me  there." 

Satan  once  said,  "  Doth  Job  fear  God  for 
nought  ?  Hast  thou  not  made  a  hedge  about 
him,  and  about  all  that  he  hath,  on  every  side  ; 
but  put  forth  thy  hand,  and  touch  all  that  he 
hath,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face."  Look 
at  the  trial :  bereft  of  all,  he  cries,  "  The  Lord 
gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  and  bless- 
ed be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  The  piety  of 
Job  was  equal  to  that  trial.  But  see  him  dis- 
eased from  the  soles  of  his  feet  to  the  crown  of 


LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.     49 

his  head.  Ah !  do  you  hear  the  long  and 
tedious  complaints  that  break  from  his  lips  ? 
The  voice  of  God,  out  of  the  whirlwind,  re- 
stores him  to  his  right  mind,  and  grace  takes  a 
deeper  root  in  h.is  soul  than  ever. 

When  we  'are  surrounded  with  friends, 
wealth,  and  influence,  we  may  not  easily  de- 
cide whether  we  are  making  the  Eternal  God 
our  refuge  and  support;  but  let  them  be  re- 
moved, and  the  trial  is  made.  —  If  they  were  to 
us  instead  of  God,  we  shall  at  once  droop  and 
languish ;  and  we  shall  be  ready  to  say,  with 
one  of  old,  "  Ye  have  taken  away  my  gods, 
and  what  have  I  left  ?  " 

Afflictions  are  designed  to  promote  our  hap- 
piness hereafter.  "  They  yield  the  peaceable 
fruits  of  righteousness  to  those  that  are  exer- 
cised thereby."  They  are  like  the  physician's 
prescription  —  bitter  indeed  to  the  taste,  but 
healthful  to  the  system.  "  They  work  for ,  us 
a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory."  — 

"  They  are  not  worthy  indeed  to  be  com- 
pared with  it."     Who  are  they  that  stand  be- 
fore the  throne  ?     They  that  have  come  up  out 
of  great  tribulation,   and  have  washed   their 
4 


50  LOSS    OF   NEAR   AND    DEAR   FRIENDS. 

robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb.  We  may  not  be  able  to  see  their  in- 
fluence in  promoting  our  eternal  interests  ;  but, 
by  and  by,  when  the  cloud  shall  break  away, 
we  shall  see  clearly  their  design  and  tendency. 
In  these  seasons  of  sorrow  and  bereavement, 
we  need  a  clear,  firm,  elastic,  available  faith  in 
immortality,  in  the  eternity  of  our  affections, 
and  in  the  deathless  union  of  those  whom 
death  has  parted. 

"  The  heart  that  God  breaks  with  affliction's  stroke, 

Oft,  like  the  flower  when  stricken  by  the  storm, 

Rises  from  earth  more  steadfastly  to  turn 

Itself  to  Heaven,  whither  as  a  guide, 

Kindly  though  stern,  Affliction  still  is  leading,  — 

Even  to  the  home  of  endless  joy  and  peace. 

There  on  the  borders  of  that  better  land, 
Shall  pain's  sharp  ministry  forever  cease. 
Then  shall  we  bless  thee,  safely  landed  there, 
And  know  above  how  good  thy  teachings  were ; 
Then  feel  thy  keenest  strokes  to  us  in  love  were  given, 
That  hearts  most  crushed  on  earth,  shall  most  rejoice 
i        in  heaven." 

"  Christian,  you  have   no   occasion  to   fear 


LOSS  OF  XEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIEXDS.      51 

entering  upon  any  path  which  God  opens  to 
you.  What  though  that  path  be  dark,  and  we 
know  not  where  it  will  end  ?  Is  it  not  enough 
that  he  who  opens  it  has  said:  '  Fear  not,  for  I 
am  with  thee'?  What  though  afflictions,  re- 
peated and  overwhelming,  lie  along  that  path? 
Is  it  not  the  path  marked  out  for  us  by  the 
wisdom  that  cannot  err?  Is  it  not  in  this  very 
way  that  the  God  of  all  grace  designs  to  make 
us  partakers  of  his  holiness  ?  Breaking  our 
earthly  arm,  that  we  may  lean  upon  himself; 
drying  up  our  failing  streams,  that'' he  may 
bring  us  to  the  living  fountain ;  and  cutting  off 
our  expected  delights,  that  he  may  make  us 
serene  and  joyful  in  himself  without  them." 
"  Oh,  ye  afflicted,  tossed  with  tempest  and  not 
comforted,  behold  and  consider  that  soon  your 
stones  shall  be  laid  with  fair  colors,  and  your 
foundations  with  sapphires."  "  Your  windows 
shall  be  of  Agates,  and  your  gates  of  Carbun- 
cles." It  is  but  an  handbreath,  humble  child 
of  sorrow,  and  you  shall  be  dismissed,  refined 
and  purified,  by  those  afflictions,  and  made 
meet  for  glory. 

Even  now  the  dawn  of  the  upper  world  beams 
through  the  clouds  that  darken  your  horizon, 


52     LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 

and  soon  those  clouds  shall  all  be  dispelled ; 
and  under  the  full  beams  of  the  Sun  of  Right- 
eousness shining  upon  you  eternally,  you  shall 
sing,  "  In  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy,  and  at 
thy  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  evermore." 

And  what  though  your  pathway  into  this  fe- 
licity bring  you  to  the  river  of  death,  and  there 
is  no  turning  to  the  right  hand,  or  the  left ;  and 
there  leaving  kindred  and  friends  behind,  you 
must  conflict  alone  with  the  cold  waves  ?  Have 
you  not  seen  others  fearful  as  you,  when  they 
have  come  to  the  cold  flood,  borne  peacefully 
through?  Have  you  not  seen  their  fears  dis- 
pelled, the  billows  parted  before  them,  and  the 
way  opened  for  them  to  go  through  dry-shod  ? 

And  is  he  who  has  done  this  for  them,  less 
sufficient  for  you  ?  "  Fear  not,"  is  his  word  to 
every  faithful  follower.  "  I  am  the  first  and 
the  lasL  I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead ; 
and  behold  I  am  alive  for  evermore.  Amen  — 
and  have  the  keys  of  death  and  of  hell."  And 
will  you  not  commit  yourself  to  Him  in  whose 
heart  is  such  love,  in  whose  hands  is  such  power? 

"  Death  is  a  theme  of  mighty  import,  and 
every  variety  of  eloquence  has  been  exhausted 
on  the  magnitude  of  its  desolations.  There  is 


LOSS  OP  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.     53 

not  a  place  where  human  beings  congregate  to- 
gether, that  does  not,  in  the  fleeting  history  of 
its  inmates,  give  the  lesson  of  their  mortality. 
Is  it  a  house  ?  Death  enters  unceremoniously 
there,  and  with  rude  hand  tears  asunder  the 
dearest  of  our  sympathies.  Is  it  a  town  ? 
Every  year  Death  breaks  up  its  families,  and 
the  society  of  our  early  days  is  fast  melting 
away.  Is  it  a  church  ?  The  aspect  of  the 
congregation  is  changing  perpetually ;  and  in  a 
little  time,  another  people  will  enter  these  walls, 
and  another  minister  will  speak  to  them.  Our 
fathers,  who  moved  their  little  hour  on  this 
very  theatre,  were  as  active  and  noisy  as  we' — 
the  loud  laugh  of  festivity  was  heard  in  their 
dwellings,  and  in  the  busy  occupations  of  their 
callings,  —  but*  where  are  they  now  ?  They 
are  where  we  shall  soon  follow  them ;  they  have 
gone  to  sleep  —  but  it  is  the  sleep  of  dtath. 

"  Death  carries  to  our  observation  all  the  im- 
mutability of  a  general  law.  We  cannot  re- 
verse the  process  of  nature,  nor  bid  her  mighty 
elements  to  retire.  But  is  there  no  higher  au- 
thority —  no  power  that  can  grapple  with  this 
mighty  conqueror,  and  break  his  tyranny  ?  Yes. 
True,  we  never  saw  that  Being;  but  the  records 


54      LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 

of  }ast  ages  inform  us  of  the  extraordinary  visi- 
tor who  lighted  on  these  realms,  where  Death 
had  reigned  so  long  in  all  the  triumphs  of  ex- 
tended empire.  Wonderful  enterprise !  He 
came  to  destroy  Death!  Vast  undertaking! 
At  the  coming  of  that  mighty  Saviour,  the 
heavens  broke  silence  —  music  was  heard  from 
their  canopy,  and  it  came  from  a  congregation 
of  living  voices,  which  sung  the  praises  of  God, 
and  made  them  fall  in  articulate  language  on 
human  ears.  The  disciples  gave  up  all  for  lost, 
when  they  saw  the  champion  of  their  hopes 
made  the  victim  of  the  very  mortality  which  he 
promised  to  destroy.  He  entered 

'  That  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourne 
No  traveller  e'er  returns." 

"  But  he  did.  He  broke  asunder  the  mighty 
barriers  of  the  grave ;  he  entered,  and  he  reani- 
mated that  body  which  expired  on  the  cross, 
and,  by  the  most  striking  of  all  testimonies,  he 
has  given  us  to  know  that  he  hath  fought  against 
the  law  of  Death,  and  hath  carried  it.  He  has 
not  abolished  temporal  death  ;  it  still  reigns 
with  unmitigated  violence,  and  swe'eps  off  each 
successive  generation.  Death  still  lays  us  in 


LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.      55 

the  grave,  but  it  cannot  chain  us  there  to  ever- 
lasting forgetfulness :  it  puts  its  cold  hand  upon 
every  one  of  us ;  but  a  power  higher  than  death 
will  lift  it  off,  and  reanimate  those  forms.  The 
burying-ground  has  been  called  the  land  of 
silence  —  the  Sabbath  bell  is  no  longer  heard 
by  its  slumbering  inhabitants ;  yet  shall  the 
sound  of  the  last  trumpet  enter  the  loneliness 
of  their  dwelling,  and  be  heard  through  death's 
remotest  caverns ;  and  this  mortal,  these  mould- 
ering bones,  these  skeletons,  and  fragments  of 
humanity,  shall  put  on  glorious  immortality." 
'  Have  you  been  called,  in  the  inscrutable  pro- 
vidence of  God,  to  part  with  near  and  dear 
friends?  And  have  they  left  behind  an  evi- 
dence that  they  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ? 
Consider,  for  a  moment,  the  happy  change  which 
they  have  experienced,  and  you  will  realize  their 
gain.  —  Here,  they  may  never  have  been  clothed 
with  the  honors  of  office;  but  there  they  are 
kings  and  priests  unto  God .  and  the  Lamb. 
Here,  they  may  have  possessed  uncertain  and 
unsatisfying  riches  ;  but  there  they  have  an  in- 
heritance incorruptible,  undefiled  and  unfading. 
Here  below  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims, 
having  no  continuing  city ;  but  now  they  have 


56     LOSS  Or  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 

gone  home  to  that  glorious  city  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  them  ;  they  are  fellow-citizens 
with  the  saints  in  the  heavenly  Zion.  Here, 
they  dwelt  in  a  frail,  miserable  tenement  of 
clay ;  but  now  they  have  "  a  building  of  God,  a 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens."  Here,  their  vision  of  divine  things 
was  limited  and  obscure;  but  now  they  see 
God  face  to  face ;  they  see  Jesus  as  he  is,  and 
behold  with  wonder  and  adoration  the  triumphs 
of  his  cross  —  the  glories  of  his  crown.  How 
clear  is  their  vision  now.  How  extensive  their 
prospect  of  eternal  things.  Here  they  were  dis- 
quieted with  doubts  and  fears  respecting  the 
final  trial  of  their  faith ;  but  these  have  passed 
away  like  the  momentary,  causeless  anxieties 
and  imaginary  dangers  of  a  dream.  They  have 
awakened  in  eternity  and  are  safe.  They  had 
their  trials,  but  these  are  ended  ;  they  had  their 
pains,  and  fears,  and  tears ;  their  days  of  lan- 
guishing, and  hour  of  dying.  But  all  this  is 
over ;  "  the  former  things  are  passed  away." 
They  had  many  dangers,  but  escaped ;  tempta- 
tions, but  they  vanquished  them ;  conflicts,  but 
the  warfare  is  ended,  and  the  victory  sure. -^- 
They  were  weak,  but  received  strength  suffi- 


LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.      57 

cient  to  reach  heaven.  Their  Father  ehastened 
them,  but  their  last  chastising  is  over.  Their 
Saviour  led  them  through  trying  scenes,  but 
the  last  is  ended.  The  work  of  faith  and  labor 
of  love  are  finished.  The  patience  of  hope  has 
endured  to  the  end,  and  is  no  longer  needed. 
Satan  tried  all  his  arts  to  undo  them,  and  was 
baffled.  The  world  employed  all  its  snares, 
yet  all  are  escaped.  Sin  made  all  its  assaults, 
yet  all  are  overcome. 

Blessed  was  the  day  when  they  were  brought 
to  the  Saviour's  fe'et, — more  blessed  that,  when 
they  landed  in  the  skies,  and  began  to  sing, 
"  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  to  thy 
name  be  the  glory." 

And  shall  we  meet  and  recognize  these  dear 
departed  friends,  amid  the  glories  of  the  upper 
temple  ?  When  the  weeping  parent  asks,  in 
agony,  where  is  my  child  ?  —  nature  and  philo- 
sophy only  echo  back  the  question  with  a  more 
despairing  emphasis.  Revelation  replies,  "  It 
is  well  with  the  child."  Then  why  may  not 
parents  and  children,  brothers  and  sisters,  re- 
deemed through  a  Saviour's  blood,  unite  once 
more  in  the  social  circle,  and  send  up  their  an- 
thems of  praise,  for  being  brought  together  to 


58      LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 

that  state  of  glory  ?  "  Love  never  faileth,"  not 
even  when  faith  is  lost  in  sight,  and  hope  in 
fruition.  In  Heaven,  the  love  of  God,  and  the 
love  of  our  neighbor,  will  be  our  highest  duty, 
our  highest  privilege,  our  highest  joy.  And  so  it 
will  be  in  reference  to  those  endearments  which 
now  constitute  the  chief  charm  of  life ;  they  will 
be  purified,  strengthened  and  perpetuated.  From 
the  who  e  theme,  it  appears  abundantly  evident 
that  the  Bible  permits  us  to  hope  that  we  shall 
know  our  friends  in  Heaven;  that  all  those 
"  who  shall  be  accounted  worthy  to  obtain  that 
world,  and  the  resurrection  f  from  the  dead," 
will  be  reunited  to,  and  associated  with,  those 
whom  they  knew  and  loved  in  this  life,  and 
thus  contribute  to  each  other's  delight  in  that 
land  of  perpetual  blessedness  and  unfading  joy. 
If  it  be  such  a  pleasure  to  take  sweet  coun- 
sel together  here,  and  to  "  walk  to  the  house  of 
God  in  company,"  what  must  it  be  to  join  the 
same  society  of  pious  friends  in  the  temple 
above  ?  In  the  language  of  another,  *  "  I  can 
hold  no  sympathy  with  that  stern,  gloomy 
mood  of  theological  teaching  which  tells  us 

*  Peabody. 


LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS.      59 

that  our  affection  for  our  kindred  and  friqnds 
.  ought  to  be  here,  and  will  be  in  heaven  com- 
pletely merged  in  our  love  ,  for  God  and  for 
man  in  general.  Such  is  not  the  lesson  which 
we  might  learn  from  our  own  growth  in  piety. 
Our  domestic  affections  increase  in  intensity 
and  purity  with  the  growth  of  our  love  to  God. 
No  families  are  so  closely  and  tenderly  united 
by  mutual  affectionr  as  those  where  the  spirit 
of  heaven  is  shed  abroad  in  every  heart.  A 
home  where  perfect  love  reigns,  is  a  laboratory 
of  those  kind  and  devout  affections  which  go 
up  to  God,  and  range  round  the  universe.  Nor 
can  we  forget  that  he  who  dwelt  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Father,  and  shed  his  reconciling  blood 
for  the  whole  family  of  man,  was  a  son,  a 
brother,  and  a  friend  —  that  he  wept  at  the 
grave  of  Lazarus  —  that  he  had  a  favorite  dis- 
ciple—  that  his  dying  eyes  sought  out  his 
mother.  The  soul  has,  indeed,  an  indefinite 
capacity  of  loving;  but  it  has  not  an  infinite 
range  of  knowledge  or  power  of  acquaintance. 
In  heaven,  we  shall,  no  doubt,  love  every  child 
of  God ;  but  we  cannot  know  all  alike,  or  be 
equally  intimate  vwith  all."  And  if  we  are  to 
associate  at  all^with  redeemed  spirits,  as  we 


60      LOSS  OF  NEAR  AND  DEAR  FRIENDS. 

know  we  shall,  if  there  is  to  be  in  heaven  the 
most  perfect  communion  of  saints,  as  we  are 
equally  assured,  then  is  it  not  reasonable  that 
this  association,  this  communion,  will  be  first 
with  those  whom  we  knew  and  loved  on  earth, 
to  whom  our  hearts  were  closely  linked  ;  who 
with  the  same  opportunities  and  means  of 
grace  as  ourselves,  have  been  disciplined  in  the 
same  school,  and,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
had  their  spiritual  affections  and  virtues  cast  in 
the  same  mould  ?  From  the  very  finiteness  of 
our  natures,  we  must  have  our  peculiar  associ- 
ates and  friends ;  and  who  so  likely  to  stand 
in  that  relation  as  those  who  were  nurtured  at 
the  same  family  altar  ?  This  community  of  joys 
and  sorrows  in  their  previous  state  of  probation, 
would  naturally  attract  them  together  in  heav- 
en, and  bind  together  as  kindred  spirits.  And 
we  can  easily  conceive  how  much  such  an 
union  would  tend  ':o  enhance  their  bliss. 


WHO   HATH  NOT   LOST  A  FRIEND  ?  61 


WHO  HATH  NOT  LOST  A  FRIEND? 

FRIEND  after  friend  departs ; 

Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend  ? 
There  is  no  union  here  of  hearts 

That  finds  not  here  an  end  : 
Were  this  frail  world  our  only  rest,  — 
Living  or  dying,  none  were  blest. 

Beyond  the  flight  of  time, 

Beyond  this  vale  of  death, 
There  surely  is  some  blessed  clime, 

Where  life  is  not  a  breath  ; 
Nor  life's  affections  transient  fire, 
Whose  sparks  fly  upward  to  expire. 

There  is  a  world  above, 

Where  parting  is  unknown,  — 
A  whole  eternity  of  love, 

Formed  for  the  good  alone ; 
And  faith  beholds  the  dying  here 
Translated  to  that  happier  sphere. 

Thus  star  by  star  declines, 

Till  all  are  passed  away, 
As  morning  high  and  higher  shines 

To  pure  and  perfect  day : 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night ; 
They  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light. 


62  DEPARTED    FRIENDS. 


DEPARTED  FRIENDS. 

THREE  years  have  passed,  since  first  I  left 

My  cottage  home,  to  roain 
'Mid  strangers  cold,  and  try,  in  vain, 

To  find  me  friends  and  home. 

I  had  a  father  once,  whose  step 

Sent  gladness  to  my  heart ; 
But  scarce  ten  years  I  loved  him  well, 

Ere  we  were  called  to  part. 

My  mother,  then,  an  angel  pure, 

"Was  left  to  guide  me  on ; 
But,  fading  slowly,  year  by  year, 

She  soon,  alas !  was  gone. 

A  little  sister  still  remained, 

A  fairy  creature,  too ; 
But  soon  my  EVA  passed  away ; 

They're  att  in  heaven  now. 


TO    ONE   DEPARTED.  63 


TO  ONE  DEPARTED. 

ART  thou  not  near  me,  with  thine  earnest  eyes, 
That  weep  forth  sympathy !  — thy  holy  brow, 

Whereon  such  sweet  imaginings  do  rise : 
Art  thou  not  near  me,  when  I  call  thee  now, 
Maid  of  my  childhood's  vow  I 

Even  like  an  angel,  smiling  'mid  the  storm, 
"Wert  thou  amid  the  darkness  of  my  woes  — 

Thy  pure  thoughts  clustering  around  thy  form, 
Like  seraph-garments,  whiter  than  the  snows, 

Which  the  wild  sea  upthrows. 

•  .  -' 

Now  I  behold  thee,  with  thy  sorrowing  smile, 
And  thy  deep  soul  uplooking  from  thy  face, 

While  sweetly  crossed  upon  thy  breast  the*  while, 
Thy  white  hands  do  thy  holy  heart  embrace, 
In  its  calm  dwelling-place ! 


64  I   HAVE   A   HOME, 


I   HAVE  A  HOME. 

I  HAVE  a  home,  a  glorious  home, 

Far,  far  above  the  skies ; 
Where  tears  of  sorrow,  grief,  despair, 

Can  never  dim  mine  eyes. 

There  Christ  our  blessed  Saviour  dwells, 
And  God  our  Father  reigns ; 

Before  them  saints  and  angels  bow, 
And  praise  their  holy  names. 

I  may  be  tossed  by  raging  waves, 

On  Fortune's  stormy  sea ; 
My  heart  may  bleed  from  sorrow's  dart, 

And  friends  forever  be. 

Yet  will  I  upward  lift  mine  eyes, 
To  that  bright  home  on  high ; 

Where  flowers  of  joy  forever  bloom, 
Perennial  in  the  sky.  pt 

The  earth  will  soon  dissolve  like  snow, 
The  sun  will  cetse  to  shine  ; 

But  O,  that  glorious  home  above, 
Will  be  forever  mine. 


THE    SPIRIT   ENTERING   BLISS.  65 


THE  SPIRIT  ENTERING  BUSS 

WHEN  Nature's  fire  shall  cease  to  burn 
Within  this  mortal,  mouldering  urn ; 
My  soul  will  triumph  o'er  decay, 
O'er  changing  worlds  that  pass  away, 
And  seek  a  clime  from  sorrows  free, 
On  wings  of  immortality. 

What  pleasaat  sound  is  this  I  hear  ? 
Behold !  behold !  the  angels  near, 
On  snowy  wings  they  hover  nigh 
While  earthly  scenes  are  passing  by, 
And  from  their  harps  sweet  thrilling  strains 
Ee-echo  o'er  the  heavenly  plains. 

On  my  glad  wings  I  swept  along, 
Amid  this  bright  angelic  throng, 
Whose  rapturous  songs  of  joy  and  praise, 
Of  triumph  o'er  death,  hell,  and  the  grave, 
Fill'd  my^  freed  soul  with  bliss  supreme, 
Exceeding  mortal's  brightest  dream ; 
Yet  sweeter  raptures  fill  me  now, 
While  at  the  throne  of  God  I  bow. 


66  NO   NIGHT   THERE. 

NO  NIGHT  THEKE. 

"  No  night  is  there ! "     The  sun  of  love  is  beaming 

Upon  the  happy  denizens  of  heaven ; 
Its  pure  effulgence  from  God's  presence  streaming, 

Shines  ever  on  the  hosts  of  the  forgiven. 

«  No  night  is  there ! "  for  cloudy  disputation 

Is  left  behind  upon  the  sinful  earth ; 
With  notes  of  cheerful  praise  and  adoration, 

All  voices  blend  to  hymn  the  Saviour's  worth. 

"  No  night  is  there ! "  for  want  and  pain  are  ended ; 

Sin  and  temptation  they  shall  know  no  more ; 
And  unbelief,  with  all  that  God  offended, 

Departed  as  they  left  the  mortal  shore. 

«  No  night  is  there ! "  for  eye  to  eye  each  seeth, 
There  no  harsh  judgments,  no  distrust  intrude ; 

Before  love's  light  all  misconception  fleeth, 
And  each  esteems  the  other  as  he  should. 

"  No  night  is  there ! "  for  none  shall  know  the  anguish 

Of  separation  or  estrangement  keen ; 
Under  the  Lord's  chastisement  none  shall  languish, 

For  there  his  glorious  face  unveiled  is  seen. 

O,  then,  while  here  in  darkness  and  in  sorrow, 
We  wait  with  trembling  hope  the  summons  home ; 

A  ray  from  heaven  to  light  our  path  we'll  borrow, 
Nor  e'er  beyond  its  hallowed  influence  roam. 


LIVE   FOB   SOMETHING.  67 


LIVE  FOR  SOMETHINQ. 

LIVE  for  something ;  be  not  idle  — 

Look  about  thee  for  employ ; 
Sit  not  down  to  useless  dreaming, 

Labor,  and  the  sweets  enjoy. 
Folded  hands  are  ever  weary, 

Selfish  hearts  are  never  gay ; 
Life  for  thee  hath  many  duties, 

Active  be  then  while  you  may. 

Scatter  blessings  in  thy  pathway ; 

Gentle  words  and  cheering  smiles 
Better  are  than  gold  and  silver, 

With  their  grief-dispelling  wiles. 
As  the  pleasant  sunshine  falleth 

Ever  on  the  grateful  earth, 
So  let  sympathy  and  kindness 

Gladden  well  the  darkened  hearth. 

Hearts  there  are  oppressed  and  weary ; 

Drop  the  tear  of  sympathy, 
Whisper  words  of  hope  and  comfort, 

Give,  and  thy  reward  shall  be 
Joy  unto  thy  soul  returning 

From  this  perfect  fountain  head. 
Freely  as  thou  freely  givest, 

Shall  the  grateful  light  be  shed. 


68  WHAT   I  LITE  FOR. 


WHAT  I  LIVE  FOR. 

I  LIVE  for  those  who  love  me, 

Whose  hearts  are  kind  and  true ; 
For  the  Heaven  that  smiles  above  me, 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too ; 
For  human  ties  that  bind  me, 
For  the  task  by  God  assigned  me, 
For  the  bright  hopes  left  behind  me, 
And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 

I  live  to  learn  their  story 
Who  suffered  for  my  sake  ; 

To  emulate  their  glory, 

And  to  follow  in  their  wake ; 

Bards,  patriots,  martyrs,  sages, 

The  noble  of  all  ages, 

Whose  deeds  crowd  History's  pages, 
And  Time's  great  volume  make. 

I  live  to  hold  communion 

With  all  that  is  divine ; 
To  feel  there  is  a  union 

'Twixt  Nature's  heart  and  mine ; 
To  profit  by  affliction, 
Eeap  truths  from  fields  of  fiction, 
Grow  wiser  from  conviction, 

And  fulfil  each  grand  design. 


WHAT    I   LIVE    FOK.  69 

I  live  to  hail  that  season, 

By  gifted  minds  foretold, 
"When  men  shall  rule  by  reason, 

And  not  alone  by  gold  ; 
When  man  to  man  united, 
And  every  wrong  thing  righted, 
The  whole  world  shall  be  lighted 

As  Eden  was  of  old. 

I  live  for  those  who  love  me ; 

For  those  who  know  me  true ; 
For  the  heaven  that  smiles  above  me, 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too : 
For  the  cause  that  lacks  assistance ; 
For  the  wrong  that  needs  resistance ; 
For  the  future  in  the  distance, 

And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 


70  INQUIRY  AND   REPLY. 

INQUIRY  AND  EEPLY. 

"  Who  are  these  in  bright  array  1 " 

WHO  are  these  in  robes  of  lightness 

Roaming  through  the  immortal  bowers, 
.    With  the  pure  and  sparkling  brightness 

Of  the  sunshine  over  flowers. 
See  the  fragrant  snow-white  roses, 

On  their  pearly  brows  entwined, 
While  each  joy  a  glance  discloses 

Richer  than  on  earth  we  find ! 

These  were  onfce  with  us  dejected, 
Wandering  far  from  God  and  love ; 

Foes  to  truth,  they  truth  rejected, 
Careless  of  the  light  above ! 

See  how  joyously  adoring, 

Now  they  sound  their  harps  of  song ! 
Bow  in  matchless  grace  before  him, 

Lowliest  of  the  admiring  throng. 
'Neath  the  throne's  intensest  splendor 

Why  no  fault  do  they  disclose  ? 
Warm  in  love,  serene  and  tender, 

Pure  in  truth  as  falling  snows. 


PASSING  AWAY.  71 

Once  they  sighed  in  deepest  sorrow, 

Burdened  by  the  weight  of  sin ; 
Not  a  comfort  could  they  borrow 

From  the  midnight  gloom  within. 
THIS  the  secret  of  their  favor ; 

When  amid  their  hopeless  woe, 
Whispers  of  a  pitying  Saviour 

Bade  their  tear-drops  cease  to  flow ; 
Instant  with  a  child's  confiding 

In  His  hand  their  own  they  laid, 
Trusting  to  his  faithful  guiding, 

Through  the  sunlight  or  the  shade. 
Whom  He  leads,  He  leads  to  glory ! 

Whom  he  calls  with  joy  reply. 
Mourner,  look !  the  way's  before  thee, 

Fix  on  Him  thy  earnest  eye ! 


PASSING  AWAY. 

It  is  written  on  the  rose, 
In  its  glory's  full  array  — 
Read  what  those  buds  disclose  — 

"  Passing  away." 

It  is  written  on  the  skies 
Of  the  soft  blue  summer  day ; 
It  is  traced  in  sunsef  s  dyes  — 

"  Passing  away." 


72  PASSING   AWAY. 

It  is  written  on  the  trees, 

As  their  young  leaves  glistening  play, 

And  on  brighter  things  than  these  — 

"Passing  away." 

It  is  written  on  the  brow 
Where  the  spirit's  ardent  ray 
Lives,  burns,  and  triumphs  now — 

"  Passing  away." 

' 

It  is  written  on  the  heart  — 

Alas !  that  there  decay 

Should  claim  from  love  a  part  — 

"  Passing  away." 

Friends,  friends  !  —  O,  shall  we  meet 

In  a  land  of  purer  day, 

Where  lovely  things,  and  sweet, 

Pass  not  away  ? 

Shall  we  know  each  other's  eyes, 
And  the  thoughts  that  in  them  lay, 
When  the  mjngled  sympathies  — 

"  Passing  away  ?  " 

O,  if  this  may  be  so, 

Speed,  speed,  thou  closing  day ! 

How  blest,  from  earth's  vain  show 

To  pass  away  1 


THE   MOTHEK  b    LEGACY.  73 


THE  MOTHER'S  LEGACY. 

Who  wiH  take  care  of  thee,  my  child  ? 

The  dying  mother  said ; 
Who'll  care  for  thee,  when  I  am  laid 

Upon  my  earthy  bed? 
Alas !  I  leave  thee  to  the  world, 

Thou  little  guileless  one; 
May  some  kind  heart  watch  o'er  thy  life, 

As  I  would  fain  have  done. 

Thine  intellect,  that  slumbers  yet 

In  childhood's  narrow  bound, 
I  give  the  world,  to  bless  mankind, 

And  scatter  wisdom  round. 
O,  may  the  one,  who  guides  thee  through 

The  sunny  vale  of  youth, 
Impart  a  virtue,  stern  and  pure, 

A  love  of  man  and  truth. 

Thy  soul,  immortal  as  its  God, 

I  leave  in  trust  with  those 
Who,  o'er  the  earth  like  angels  spread, 

Will  mitigate  thy  woes ; 
From  them,  of  purity  and  grace 

Thy  soul  receive  its  leaven, 
Till,  sped  its  way  through  earthly  care, 

It  wings  its  flight  to  heaven. 


74  EARTH  AND  HEAVEN. 


EAKTH  AND  HEAVEN. 

OUR  earth  is  very  lovely,  with  her  sunny  skies  of 

blue, 

Bright  opening  buds  and  blossoms  blending  each  vary- 
ing hue  — 
Her  twilight  dews  fast  falling,  and  her  ocean-murmurs 

low,  * 

And  her  pale  stars  softly  gleaming  o'er  eve's  ethereal 

brow; 
Thou  nearest  the  wild-bird's  warble  floating  softly  on 

the  breeze, 
As  they  trill  their  gladsome  carol  through  the  dark 

entangled  trees. 
Yes ;  Earth  is  very  lovely ;  till  her  last  bright  sun 

shall  set, 
The  beauty  of  thy  birth-land  would  I  bid  thee  ne'er 

forget. 

But  there's  a  land  far  lovelier,  whose  skies  no  dark- 
ling know, 

Whose  fair,  undying  flowerets  in  fadeless  beauty 
glow, — 

Where  the  wavelets  of  life's  river  glide  tranquilly 
along, 

Mingling  their  low-toned  minstrelsy  with  the  glad 
angel-song ; 


WHERE  IS   THAT   LAND?  f5 

There  shall  fall  no  touch  of  sorrow,  no  shadowy  hours 
will  come, 

Flinging  their  mournful  darkling  o'er  the  sunny  light 
of  home. 

If  thou  wouldst  pass  its  portals  when  from  this  earth- 
life  riven, 

Then,  while  Earth  still  thou  lovest,  thou  shouldst  re- 
member heaven ! 


WHERE  IS  THAT  LAND? 

WHERE  is  that  land  of  mystery, 

Where  the  spirit  lives  forever ; 
Where  sin  and  sorrow 'enter  not 

To  dim  the  crystal  river? 
How  does  the  spirit  wing  its  way 

To  sister  spirits  there  — 
When  does  it  reach  eternal  day 

And  breathe  in  heavenly  air? 

And  what  composes  those  fair  robes 
That  ever  bright  and  new — 

Is  there  a  crown  upon  the  head 
That  sparkles  brightly  too  ? 

And  is  there  nought  but  spirits  there ! 

Where  joy  forever  reigns ; 
Where  spotless  purity  and  love 

Adorn  the  heavenly  plains  ? 


76  OUR    LITTLE    BROTHER. 

OUK  LITTLE  BROTHER. 

"WE  loved  the  silky,  golden  hair, 
That  played  upon  his  forehead  fair ; 
The  angels  loved  him,  —  for  so  rare 
Were  such  pretty  locks  of  hair. 

We  loved  his  brilliant,  glistening  eye, 
So  keen,  so  loving,  yet  so  sly ; 
The  angels  loved  him  too, — for  why 
Should  they  resist  his  sparkling  eye  ? 

We  loved  his  laugh,  so  gayly  ringing, 
Joy  to  our  loving  bosoms  bringing ; 
The  angels  joined  him  in  their  singing, — 
So  seraph-like  his  laugh  was  ringing. 

We  loved  him.     Picture  of  the  mother 
Was  our  sweet  bud,  our  darling  brother. 
Bright  seraphs  bore  him  hence,  —  another 
Gem  in  thy  coronet,  dear  mother. 

We  love  him  now.    The  sweetest  flower 
That  ever  saw  a  sunlight  hour, 
Has  from  our  bright  domestic  bower 
Been  plucked, — to  be  in  heaven  a  flower. 

The  fragrance  of  that  bud  in  heaven, 
Forth  reaching  to  our  hearth-stone  even, 
Shall,  if  thy  grace,  O  God,  be  given, 
Win  us  from  earthly  flowers  to  heaven. 


TO   MY  MOTHEB.  77 


TO  MY  MOTHER. 

O,  MOTHEK,  dearest ;  hast  thou  e'er 

From  Heavenly  mansions  leave  to  stray — 

A  ministering  spirit  here  — 

"With  me,  with  me,  dear  mother,  —  stay. 

O'er  me  a  holy  influence  shed, 

Like  that  which  beams  in  thy  bright  home ;  • 
No  thoughts  of  fear,  or  trembling  dread, 

Are  linked  with  thy  loved  spirit — come ! 

Come  to  me  in  whatever  form 
The  radiant  host  angelic  wear,  — 

Like  lightnings  flashing  'mid  the  storm  — 
Or  robed  in  summer  clouds  so  fair. 

Thine  eye  last  looked  in  love  on  mine, 

Even  through  the  gathering  haze  of  death ;  - 

And  can  a  love  so  deep  as  thine, 

E'er  die  with  this  life's  fleeting  b^ath? 

I  see  thee  not,  yet  feel  thou'rt  near, 

For  all  things  round  me  speak  of  thee ;  — 

E'en  as  thy  voice  methinks  I  hear 
In  the  night-winds'  low  i»instrelsy 


78  THE   SOUL'S   PASSING. 


THE  SOUL'S  PASSING. 

IT  is  ended !  —  all  is  over ! 

Lo,  the  weeping  mourners  come, — 
Mother,  father,  friend  and  lover, 

To  the  death  incumbered  room ; 
Lips  are  pressed  to  the  blessed, 

Lips  that  erermore  are  dumb. 

Take  her  faded  hand  in  thine,  — 

Hand  that^io  more  answereth  kindly ; 

See  the  eyes  were  wont  to  shine, 
Uttering  love,  now  staring  blindly ; 

Tender-hearted  speech  departed, — 
Speech  that  echoed  so  divinely. 

Runs  no  more  the  circling  river, 
Warming,  brightening  every  part; 

There  it  slumbereth  cold  forever,  — 
No  more  merry  leap  and  start ; 

No  more  flushing  cheeks  to  blushing,  — 
In  its  silent  home  the  heart ! 


SPEAK   GENTLY.  79 


SPEAK  GENTLY. 

SPEAK  gently 
My  name,  when  I  rest  with  the  dead ; 

Tread  lightly 
The  turf  that  lies  over  my  head : 

Plant  flowers, 
To  bloom  o'er  the  place  where  I  sleep, 

And  willows, 
Whose  branches  shall  over  me  weep. 

O,  come  there, 
When  spring's  gentle  breezes  do  play, 

And  sing  there  — 
Sing  o'er  me  a  low,  mournful  lay : 

At  evening, 
When  fragrance  floats  soft  on  the  air, 

Then  kneel  there, 
And  offer  thy  deep,  fervent  prayer. 

Let  me  die 
When  the  sun  slowly  sjnks  to  Mr  rest ; 

When  his  beams      f 
Brightly  play  round  his  home  in  the  west : 

As  softly 
As  fades  daylight's  last  trembling  ray, 

So  gently 
My  spirit  would  then  pass  away. 


80  THE  ANGEL'S  WHISPER. 

•  > 

THE  ANGEL'S  WHISPER. 

THERE  was  silence  in  Heaven.  The  song, 
that  had  echoed  in  strains  of  such  entrancing 
sweetness  around  the  throne  of  the  Eternal, 
was  for  a  moment  hushed.  There  was  no 
sound  in  Paradise,  save  when  the  golden  lyre 
of  some  glorified  spirit  thrilled  faintly,  and  sent 
forth  a  low,  melodious  note,  as  if  unwilling  to 
cease  its  musical  breathings. 

The  hosts  of  the  better  land  —  myriads  of 
angels  and  archangels  knelt  humble  around  the 
"  Great  I  Am"  with  their  pinions  folded  and 
their  heads  bowed  in  reverence  to  Him  at  whose 
command  a  holy  stillness  now  reigned  through- 
out the  spirit-world. 

A  vast,  aye,  and  a  glorious  assemblage  was 
that ;  yet  one  white-robed  form,  that  was  wont 
to  mingle  injjie  throng,  was  absent ;  a  divine 
commission  twd  been  given  him,  and  now  he 
winged  his  way  to  the  world  below.  Eagerly 
the  angel  bands  watched  him  as  he  sped  far, 
far  on  his  earthward  flight ;  and  when  at  length 
he  paused  above  a  scene  of  wretchedness,  and 
a  harp-note  of  celestial  sweetness  came  faintly 
to  their  ears,  they  cast  their  fadeless  diadems 
at  the  feet  of  the  Infinite,  and  cried,  "  Hallelu- 


THE  ANGEL'S  WHISPEK.  81 

jah  to  the  Lamb  who  has  saved  us,  and  still 
continueth  to  save." 

To  the  sad  and  the  sorrowing,  to  the  guilty 
and  erring  of  earth,  had  God  sent  the  messen- 
ger of  mercy ;  and  when  the  music  of  his  song 
floated  to  the  realms  above,  he  paused  above  a 
low  couch,  on  which  reclined  a  dying  boy.  A 
bright-haired  lad  he  was,  who  had  beheld  the 
storms  and  sunshine  of  only  ten  short  years. 
He  had  been  gay  and  joyous,  as  childhood  ever 
is ;  but  now  the  light  of  his  sunny  eye  had 
grown  dim,  and  his  merry  laugh  went  forth  no 
more  on  the  summer  air.  There  was  a  feverish 
flush  on  his  rounded  cheek,  and  his  full  lips 
were  parched  with  the  burning  breath  of  dis- 
ease. Beside  him  stood  a  pale,  sad  woman  — 
his  mother — his  widowed  mother.  There  was 
an  expression  of  intense  suffering  on  her  face, 
and  the  tears  gushed  to  her  ey^u  when  she 
smoothed  back  the  golden  ringMl  from  his 
brow ;  nearer  and  nearer  still  drew  the  heaven- 
sent messenger,  and  more  intently  gazed  he 
on  the  form,  in  which,  like  a  pent-up -bird,  the 
soul  was  panting  to  be  free.  At  length  the 
lad's  eye  brightened ;  a  rich  crimson  flushed  his 
cheek,  and  the  small  hand,  clasped  in  the  moth- 
6 


82  THE  ANGEL'S  WHISPER. 

er's,  trembled  convulsively,  as  thus  he  spoke :  — 
"  1  see  the  seraph,  mother !  let  me  —  O,  let 
me  go  !  "  and  the  voice  died  away  like  the  low 
thrill  of  a  lute-tone  —  the  eyelids  dropped  lov- 
ingly over  those  calm,  pure  orbs  —  the  crimson 
faded  from  the  cheek  —  the  boy  had  heard  the 
angeP s  whisper,  and  the  mother  sat  alone  with 
the  dead. 

Hours  went  by;  midnight  brooded  o'er  the 
earth,  and  the  stars,  like  spirit's  eyes,  looked 
down  upon  the  widow's  home.  Beside  her 
boy  the  mother  knelt,  with  her  hands  clinched 
across  her  motionless  breast,  and  her  cheek 
pressed  to  his,  as  if  to  warm  it  into  life ;  but  no 
mother's  power  could  wake  the  dead. 

Still  clasped  the  mother  to  her  boy ;  but  the 
wild  and  unnatural  light  in  her  eye  too  plainly 
told  that  grief  was  struggling,  for  the  mastery 
of  reason.^jThe  spirit  came  near  —  softly  he 
struck  one  cnord  of  his  celestial  lyre,  then  min- 
gled a  low  whisper  with  the  thrilling  strain. 
Suddenly  a  smile  came  o'er  the  face  of  the  wi- 
dow ;  she  clasped  the  corpse  of  her  son  more 
nervously — a  slight  tremor  convulsed  her  limbs 
—  she  had  heard  the  angel's  whisper  —  instantly 
her  soul  was  with  him  over  whom  she  had 
mourned. 


ANGEL'S  WHISPER.  83 


ANGEL'S  WHISPER. 

WEEP  not,  mother, 

For  another 
Tie  that  bound  thyself  to  earth 

Now  is  sundered, 

And  is  numbered 
"With  those  of  a  heavenly  birth. 

She  hath  left  thee, 

God  bereft  thee 
Of  thy  dearest  earthly  friend ; 

Yet  thou'lt  meet  her, 

Thou  wilt  greet  her, 
Where  reunions  have  no  end. 

Her  life's  true  sun 

Its  course  did  run      * 
From  morn  unto  meridian  day ; 

And  now  at  eve 

It  takes  its  leave, 
Calmly  passing  hence  away. 

Watch  the  spirit — 
'Twill  inherit 

Bliss  which  mortal  cannot  tell ; 
From  another 
World,  my  mother, 
Angels  whisper,  "  All  is  well." 


84  THREE   ANGEL-SPIRITS. 

'Way  with  sadness ! 
There  is  gladness 
In  a  gathered  spirit-throng ; 
She  ascended, 
Trials  ended, 
Joins  their  ranks  and  chants  their  song. 


THREE  ANGEL-SPIRITS. 

THREE  angel-spirits  walk  the  earth, 

Our  guides  where'er  we  go ; 
And  where  their  gentle  footsteps  lead, 

There  is  no  human  woe : 
They  smile  upon  the  cradled  child  — 

They  bless  the  heart  of  youth  — 
And  age  is  mellowed  by  the  touch 

Of  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth. 

Three  angel-spirits ;  evermore 

They  guard  our  thorny  way, 
And  those  who  follow  where  they  lead 

Can  never  go  astray ; 
For  God  has  given  them  alike 

To  childhood  and  to  youth, 
And  age  is  mellowed  by  the  touch 

Of  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth. 


THE   ANGEL    REAPER. 


THE  ANGEL  KEAPER. 

THERE  is  a  Reaper  whose  name  is  Death, 

And,  with  his  sickle  keen, 
He  reaps  the  bearded  grain  at  a  breath, 

And  the  flowers  that  grow  between. 

"  Shall  I  have  nought  that  is  fair  ?  "  said  he, 
"  Have  nought  but  the  bearded  grain  ? 

Though  the  breath  of  those  flowers  is  sweet  to  me, 
I  will  give  them  all  back  again." 

He  gazed  on  the  flowers  with  tearful  eyes, 

He  kissed  their  drooping  leaves ; 
It  was  for  the  Lord  of  Paradise 

He  bound  them  in  his  sheaves. 

«  My  Lord  has  need  of  these  flowrets  gay," 

The  reaper  said  and  smiled ; 
"  Dear  tokens  of  the  earth  are  they, 

Where  once  He  was  a  child. 

"  They  shall  all  bloom  in  fields  of  light, 

Transplanted  by  my  care ; 
And  saints,  upon  their  garments  white, 

These  sacred  blossoms  wear." 


86  ANGEL   AND    THE    STABS. 

And  the  mother  gave,  in  tears  and  pain, 
The  flowers  she  most  did  love ; 

She  knew  she  should  find  them  all  again 
In  the  fields  of  light  above. 

Oh  not  in  cruelty,  not  in  wrath, 
The  reaper  came  that  day  — 

Twas  an  angel  visited  the  green  earth, 
And  took  the  flowers  away. 


ANGEL  AND  THE  STAKS. 

"A  little  girl,  looking  at  the  stars  as  they  came  twinkling 
through  the  boughs  of  the  trees,  exclaimed  — 
" '  See,  there  are  the  angels'  fingers  pointing  to  us.' " 

" '  They  are  the  angels'  fingers 

Pointing  through  the  trees,' 
They  sparkle  in  the  dew-drop, 

They  are  mirror'd  in  the  seas ; 
They  speak  of  yon  bright  heaven, 

They  tell  a  tale  of  love,  — 
While  silently  they  glisten 

From  the  firmament  above. 

"  They  are  always  shining  brightly, 
Though  often  veiled  from  sight ; 

And  when  the  night  lowers  darkly, 
They  gild  it  with  their  light. 


ANGEL    AND    THE    STARS.  87 

*  They  are  the  angels'  fingers 

Pointing  through  the  trees  ;' 

They  sparkle  in  the  dew-drop, 

They're  mirror'd  in  the  seas. 

"  And  they  shall  beam  as  brightly, 

One  hundred  years  from  now, 
And  point  with  radiant  fingers 

Through  each  dark  green-wood  bough. 

*  They  are  the  angels'  fingers 

Pointing  through  the  trees  ;' 

They  sparkle  in  the  dew-drop, 

They're  mirror'd  in  the  seas. 

"  And  when  those  silent  watches, 

Far  in  the  peaceful  sky, 
Shall  beam  on  us  no  longer 

From  off  their  throne  on  high ; 
Then  shall  they  shine  as  brightly, 

When  we  have  passed  away, 
On  those  who'll  think  as  lightly 

As  we  who  live  to-day." 


88  THE    ANGEL    AND    THE    BRIDE. 


THE  ANGEL  AND    THE  BRIDE. 

THE  Angel  who  watcheth  over  those  who 
are  about  to  unite  their  hearts  and  hands  in  the 
fear  of  God,  hovered  near  one  who  was  soon 
to  become  a  bride. 

She  sat  alone  in  her  chamber,  and  mused, 
and  he  was  beside  her,  but  she  knew  it  not. 
He  looked  into  her  guileless  eyes,  and  saw  as 
through  a  clear  glass,  the  movement  of  her 
thoughts,  and  heard  their  unspoken  question. 

"  Wherewith  shall  I  adorn  myself  when  I 
stand  forth  in  the  solemn  rite,  that  I  may 
please  him  in  whom  my  soul'delighteth,  and 
them  also,  who  come  thither  to  do  us  honor  ?  " 

Then  the  Angel  smiled,  and  read  in  a  Holy 
Book  that  lay  open  by  her  side,  "  Can  a  maid 
forget 'her  ornaments,  or  a  bride  her  attire?" 
And  he  whispered  so  softly,  that  it  seemed  as 
the  zephyr  among  the  flowers  at  her  window. 

"  O  Bride !  be  not  studious  to  deck  thyself 
in  costly  array.  Trouble  not  thine  heart  about 
the  silks  of  the  merchant,  or  the  gems  of  the 
lapidary,  or  the  fashions  of  the  tire-woman,  or 
the  pride  of  gorgeous  apparel. 


THE   ANGfcL    AND     THE    BRIDE.  89 

If  these  are  fitting  for  thee,  display  them  at 
other  times,  but  not  at  this  lime.  For  it  is  a 
sacred  festival,  and  around  the  pure  bride,  there 
is  ever  a  mantle  of  dignity,  that  needs  not  tin- 
sel or  trappings,  but  is  debased  thereby. 

The  highest  guest  at  the  marriage-rite,  is  the 
Being  that  ordained  it.  Look  then  first  unto 
Him,  and  see  that  thou  wear  the  garment  of 
humility. 

The  Angels  also  will  be  there.  Therefore 
wrap  thyself  in  purity,  that  they  may  give  thee 
the  smile  that  hath  no  self  in  it.  For  that  is 
their  badge,  —  and  thou  art  but  a  little  lower 
than  they. 

And  in  the  sight  of  him  who  shall  stand 
nearest  thy  side  at  the  bridal,  and  of  them  who 
love  thee,  and  are  gathered  around,  modesty 
and  simplicity  are  the  true  ornaments.  "  The 
topaz  of  Ethiopia  cannot  equal  them,  neither 
shall  they  be  exchanged  for  jewels  of  fine 
gold." 

Then  the  gentle  one,  who  deemed  that  she 
had  been  listening  to  her  own  sweet  thoughts, 
made  answer  as  they  prompted  her. 

"  I  will  wear  a  simple  white  robe,  with  the 
bridal  veil,  and  my  only  jewels  shall  be  the 


90         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  BRIDE. 

snowy  flowers.  So  shall  my  heart  be  more 
free  to  rise  upward,  whence  its  strength 
cometh." 

Then  the  Angel  revealed  himself,  and  laid  a 
casket  beside  her  —  saying,  "  Blessed  art  thou 
of  the  Lord!  Behold  a  gift  from  Heaven! 
Take  it,  —  and  become  more  like  unto  us." 

So  she  opened  the  casket,  and  in  it,  was  but 
one  fair  gem.  It  was  the  pearl  of  a  loving  and 
lowly  spirit.  And  as  she  pressed  it  to  her  lips, 
and  laid  it  on  her  bosom,  there  came  forth  a 
voice  which  said, 

"  O  bride !  seek  more  and  more  the  beauty 
of  holiness.  So  shalt  thou  be  lovely  unto  the 
Angels,  and  accepted  of  Him  whose  messen- 
gers they  are.  And  when  the  comeliness  of 
earth  departeth,  thou  shalt  receive  a  crown  of 
glory,  that  can  never  fade  away." 

Trusting  One,  whither  wilt  thou  follow  thy 
beloved?  From  the  nest  where  thou  wert 
reared  ?  from  the  hearth-stone,  where  thy  first 
affections  grew?  —  to  take  thy  place  at  his 
board,  and  to  beautify  a  new  home,  with  the 
love  that  never  dies  ? 

Whither  ?  —  To  a  dwelling  among  stran- 
gers?—  wher3  eyes  that  never  met  thee,  shall 


THE   ANGEL    AXD    THE    BRIDE.  91 

gaze  curiously  upon  thee  ?  or  forms  that  thou 
hast  never  seen,  pass  thee  unnoticed  by  ?  For 
his  sake  wilt  thou  twine  the  tendrils  of  friend- 
ship around  untried  props,  and  wait  in  the  pa- 
tience of  hope  for  the  buddings  of  sympathy  ? 

But  whither  wilt  thou  follow  thy  beloved  ? 
Over  the  rugged  mountains?  —  to  the  fresh 
green  West  ?  —  to  the  far  stretching  prairie  ?  — 
to  the  sultry  southern  skies  ?  —  to  the  margin 
of  the  great  Lakes  ?  —  to  the  village  creeping 
from  the  heart  of  the  forest  ?  —  or  the  thronged 
city,  whose  roofs  shut  out  the  blue  sky  ? 

Whither?  —  Over  the  Ocean?  —  upon  the 
crested  billow  ?  where  seas  and  skies  mingle  in 
misty  line,  —  and  at  the  trump  of  the  hoarse 
winds,  the  terrible  waves  come  forth  to  their 
tempestuous  play? 

Whither  ?  —  To-foreign  lands  ?  —  to  the  isl- 
ands of  the  sea  ?  —  to  people  of  a  strange  lan- 
guage?—  whose  words  are  to  thine  ear  a  con- 
fusion .  of  unmeaning  sounds  ?  and  in  whose 
heart  are  no  memories  of  those  whom  thou 
hast  loved  from  infancy  ? 

Whither  ?  —  Among  the  heathen,  who  know 
not  God?  —  to  bear  to  their  downcast  souls 
the  melody  of  the  Gospel?  and  to  tell  their  un- 


92  /        THE    ANGEL    BKIDE. 

taught  babes  of  Him,  who  said,  "  Suffer  the  lit- 
tle children  to  come  unto  Me  ?  " 

And  the  bride-heart,  strong  in  its  holy  love, 
answered,  "  Whither  he  goeth,  I  will  go,  — 
where  he  lodgeth  will  I  lodge,  —  his  people 
shall  *be  my  people,  —  and  his  God  my  God. 


THE  ANGEL  BRIDE. 

I  SHOULD  have  known  thou  wouldst  have  died 

When  fate  first  led  me  to  thy  side  ; 

Thy  holy  eyes  had  nought  of  earth  — 

Thy  lip  ne'er  curved  in  heartless  mirth ; 

I  should  have  known  thou  wouldst  have  died, 

My  seraph-love !  my  angel-bride ! 

I  loved  thee  then,  I  love  thee  yet ! 

Though  I  have  striven  to  forget  — 

Though  Time's  dark  wings  have  pressed  my  brow, 

I  loved  thee  then  —  and  love  thee  now ; 

And  had  I  died  when  thou  wert  dead, 

Thy  spirit,  mine  to  heaven  had  led. 

Thou  gentle  presence !  in  that  hour, 

I  felt  thy  being  —  knew  thy  power. 

Thy  spirit,  from  the  clay  departed, 

Has  watched  o'er  me  when  loneliest  hearted. 


THE    ANGEL    BRIDE.  93 

The  evening  star  recalls  thine  eye  — 
The  mournful  zephyr  sighs  thy  sigh ! 

The  forms  of  earth  and  visioned  air 
In  being  like  to  thee,  are  fair  — 
I  do  not  yet  deserve  to  die, 
Or  I  might  join  thee  in  yon  sky. 
Pray  that  my  sins  may  be  forgiven  ; 
I  long  to  die  —  to  reach  thy  heaven. 

Ho-v  human  things  the  heart  deprave  — 

Though  I  am  kneeling  by  thy  grave, 

I  feel  a  yearning  unto  earth, 

Which  speaks  the  spell  of  mortal  birth. 

I  love  an  angel,  loving  thee, 

Or  scarce  would  wish  to  cease  to  be. 

I  cherish  still  my  marriage  ring, 
Keeping  it  as  an  hallowed  thing 
Of  the  firm  chain  of  love  which  binds ; 
It  is  a  link  which  still  reminds ; 
Though  long  on  earth  may  be  my  stay, 
No  spell  shall  charm  thy  spell  away. 

I  feel  I  have  not  long  to  stay  — 
To  heaven  and  thee  I  will  away, 
Beseeching  God  in  earnest  prayer, 
Though  I  have  sinned,  to  meet  thee  there ; 
For  well  I  feel  —  full  well  I  see 
No  earthly  spell  bound  me  to  thee. 


94  THE    LOVELY   BRIDE. 

The  bliss  —  the  doom  hath  come  at  last, 
My  mortal  frame  is  chilling  fast ; 
While  with  the  soul's  clear  eyes  I  see 
My  spirit-wife  approaching  me. 
Oh !  far  from  earth  to  holier  things, 
I  glide  to  her  on  spirit-wings ! 


,'.v     THE  LOVELY  BRIDE. 

I  WAS  spending  an  hour,  not  long  .since,  in 
turning  the  pages  of  a  pleasant  miscellany,  in 
the  course  of  which  my  eye  fell  upon  the  fol- 
lowing rare,  but  beautiful  and  touching  inci- 
dent, in  the  history  of  one  who  that  day  was  to 
become  a  bride. 

A  party  of  lively  and  interested  cousins  and 
friends  had  early  assembled  at  the  bridal  man- 
sion for  the  purpose  of  decorating  the  drawing 
room,  where  the  marriage  ceremony  was  to  be 
performed.  At  length  this  pleasant  duty  being 
accomplished,  they  retired,  happy  in  contribut- 
ing to  the  joy  of  an  occasion  which  while  it 
would  take  from  them  one  whom  they  loved, 
would  unite  that  one  to  the  object  of  her  high- 
est regard.  The  room  was  beautifully  decorat- 
ed with  rich  and  variegated  bouquets,  and  on 


THE    LOVELY   BRIDE.  95 

a  centre  table  lay  the  gayly  adorned  bride's  loaf, 
an  object  of  great  importance. 

I  said  all  had  retired  from  the  lovely  spot ; 
but  there  was  one  of  the  cousins,  who,  a  short 
time  after,  stole  gently  back,  to  look  once  more 
at  the  varied  beauty  of  the  scene,  and  to  in- 
dulge by  herself  the  hopes  and  anticipations  of 
an  affectionate  heart,  for  the  future  happiness 
of  her  friend.  She  gently  opened  the  door,  and 
was  about  entering,  when  she  noticed  the  sofa 
was  wheeled  round  to  the  precise  spot  where, 
that  evening,  the  happy  pair  were  to  rise  and 
exchange  their  solemn  vows ;  and  there  the 
lovely  bride  was  kneeling,  so  absorbed  in  her 
own  thougths,  the  intrusion  of  her  friend  was 
unnoticed.  That  friend  stood  for  a  moment 
gazing  in  holy  admiration  at  the  scene ;  she 
longed  gently  to  approach  and  kneel  by  her 
side,  but  the  occasion  was  too  sacred  to  admit 
of  social  union,  and  she  retired. 

And  what,  so  solemn  and  absorbing,  was  oc- 
cupying the  thoughts  of  this  happy  being  ? 
Was  it  the  anticipations  of  worldly  felicity  that 
had  brought  her  there  ?  Looking  round  upon 
the  beauty  and  gayety  of  the  room,  where  in  a 
few  hours  she  would  give  her  hand  to  him 


96  THE   LOVELY   BRIDE. 

whom  she  preferred  to  all  others  on  earth,  had 
she,  in  the  wilderness  and  excess  of  her  own 
emotions,  fallen  into  a  reverie  ?  Nothing  of  the 
kind.  Delighted  she  might  be,  and  justly  was  ; 
but  she  had  one  duty  to  perform  ;  a  high  and 
holy  duty,  ere  she  plighted  her  vows  to  the  ob- 
ject of  her  early  affections.  There,  in  that  spot 
where  she  would  soon  stand  and  surrender  her 
earthly  all  to  her  husband,  she  would  first  con- 
secrate herself  to  the  Lord.  The  prior  conse- 
cration was  due  to  him.  On  that  altar  she 
wished  to  offer  an  earlier  and  holier  incense  ; 
on  that  spot,  to  make  a  record  of  the  prior  deed 
which  she  had  given  of  herself,  to  her  superior 
Lord. 

I  know  not  of  an  earthly  scene  more  lovely,  or 
of  an  immortal  being  in  similar  circumstances, 
in  an  attitude  more  becoming.  And  I  am  sure, 
that  if  her  intended  husband  had  himself  the 
love  of  God  reigning  in  his  heart,  and  could  he 
have  seen  her  there,  whatever  he  might  have 
thought  of  her  before,  his  love  would  have  said 
—  not,  perhaps,  with  perfect  truth  ;  for  others,  it 
is  to  be  hoped,  have  done'  so  before  her  ;  but  he 
might  be  forgiven  if,  in  his  ardor  and  admira- 
tion, he  had  exclaimed  —  "Many  daughters 


•       THE   LOVELY   BRIDE.  97 

haxre  done  virtuously,  but  thou  excellest  them 
all." 

What  a  beautiful  example  for  the  imitation 
of  those  who  are  about  to  be  led  to  the  hyme- 
neal altar!  ^Most  beautiful,  most  becoming!  I 
know  not  the  subsequent  history  of  that "  lovely 
bride,"  but  I  am  certain  she  never  repented  of 
that  act  of  self-dedication  to  God.  She  may 
not,  indeed,  have  escaped  sorrow  and  affliction ; 
but  if  they  were  her  lot,  I  know  that  God  would 
remember  the  kindness  of  her  youth.  He  would 
not.  forsake  her.  She  might  bury  her  husband, 
children,  friends  ;  she  might  suffer  sickness  and 
poverty;  but  in  no  hour  would  her  heavenly 
Father  forsake  her ;  he  would  guide  her  by  his 
counsel,  and  afterwards  receive  her  to  glory. 
Youthful  females !  would  you  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  future  peace ;  would  you  provide  against 
the  reverses  of  fortune;  would  you  have  a  friend 
and  a  protector  through  this  world  of  vicissi- 
tude ;  would  you  have  consolation  in  the  dark- 
est night  of  adversity  which  may  set  in  upon 
you  ;  imitate  the  example  of  "  the  lovely  bride." 


98  LEAN   NOT    ON   EARTH. 


«  LEAN  NOT  ON  EARTH." 

"  LEAN  not  on  Earth !  a  broken  reed, 

'Twill  pierce  thee  to  the  heart ; " 
Joy  after  joy  will  quickly  speed, 
And  oh,  thy  youthful  heart  will  bleed 
To  see  those  joys  depart ; 
Lean  not  on  Earth. 

Lean  not  on  Friends !  they  will  not  stand 

The  test  of  time  and  change  ; 
The  smiling  face  —  the  opening  hand, 
And  heart  half  willing  to  expand, 
A  trifle  will  estrange ; 

Lean  not  on  Friends. 

Lean  not  on  Wealth !  for  quick,  alas ! 

The  winged  meteor  flies  — 
And  all  your  golden  dreams  will  pass 
And  wither  like  the  summer's  grass, 

Which  soon  in  autumn  dies ; 
Lean  not  on  Wealth. 

Lean  not  on  Fame  !   a  hollow  blast — 

It  sounds  and  dies  away. 
Glory's  bright  flash  will  never  last, 
And  honor's  gleam  is  quickly  pass'd, 

A  bright  uncertain  ray  ; 

Lean  not  on  Fame. 


FLIGHT   TO   HEAVEN.  99 

But  lift  thy  trusting  gaze  to  heaven, 

And  fix  it  firmly  there ; 
And  then,  if  earthly  hopes  be  riven, 
Thou  hast  a  hope  by  Earth  not  given, 

A  balm  for  every  care ; 

O,  lean  on  Heaven. 


FLIGHT  TO  HEAVEN. 

"WHAT  is  life  ?  'tis  but  a  vapor  ; 

Soon  it  vanishes  away  j 
Life  is  but  a  dying  taper ; 

0  my  soul,  why  wish  to  stay  ? 
Why  not  spread  thy  wings  and  fly 

Straight  to  yonder  world  of  joy? 

See  that  glory,  how  resplendent ! 

Brighter  far  than  fancy  paints ; 
There,  in  majesty  transcendent, 

Jesus  reigns,  the  King  of  saints ; 
Spread  thy  wings,  my  soul,  and  fly 
Straight  to  yonder  world  of  joy. 

Joyful  crowds  his  throne  surrounding, 
Sing,  with  rapture,  of  his  love  ; 

Through  the  heavens  his  praises  sounding, 
Filling  all  the  courts  above  * 

Spread  thy  wings,  my  soul,  and  fly 

Straight  to  yonder  world  of  joy. 


100  THERE    IS    BEST    IN   HEAVEN. 

Go  and  share  his  people's  glory, 
'Mid  the  ransom-crowd  appear ; 

Thine's  a  joyful,  wondrous  story, 
One  that  angels  love  to  hear : 

Spread  thy  wings,  my  soul,  and  fly 

Straight  to  yonder  world  of  joy." 


THERE  IS  REST  IN  HEAVEN. 

"  THERE'S  rest  for  us  in  heaven :" 

O,  blissful  words  are  they  ; 
That  hope  to  us  is  given 

Of  an  immortal  day. 

Mother,  with  the  careworn  brow, 

"Watching  o'er  thy  children, 
0,  turn  away  from  earth's  hopes  now, 
"There's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven." 

Father,  with  hairs  silvered  white, 

Toiling  until  even, 
0,  turn  away  from  earthly  light, 

"  There 's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven." 

Mourner,  bending  o'er  the  sod, 

Though  deep  thy  heartstring's  riven, 

Murmur  not  against  thy  God, 

"  There's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven." 


LAND    OF   PROMISE.  101 

Sweet  and  broken-hearted  one, 

"Weeping  o'er  love  not  given, 
Thy  race  of  life  is  nearly  run, 

"  There's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven." 


LAND  OF  PROMISE. 

"  WHERE  is  that  land,  oh  where  ? 

For  I  would  hasten  there ; 

Tell  me  —  I  fain  would  go, 

For  I  am  weary  with  a  heavy  wo ! 
The  beautiful  have  left  me  all  alone  ; 
The  true,  the  tender,  from  my  path  have  gone  ; 

Oh,  guide  me  with  thy  hand, 

If  thou  dost  know  that  land. 
For  I  am  burdened  with  oppressive  care, 
And  I  am  weak  and  fearful  with  despair  ; 
Where  is  it  ?    Tell  me  where. 

Friend,  thou  must  trust  in  HIM  who  trod,  before. 

The  desolate  paths  of  life  ; 
Must  bear,  in  meekness,  as  he  meekly  bore 
Sorrow,  and  pain,  and  strife  : 
Think  how  the  Son  of  God 
These  thorny  paths  hath  jxod  ; 
Think  how  he  longed  to  go, 
Yet  tarried  out,  for  thee,  the  appointed  wo. 


102  FRIENDS   IN   HEAVEN. 

Think  of  his  weariness  in  places  dim, 
Where  no  man  comforted,  or  cared  for  him ! 

Think  of  the  blood-like  sweat, 

With  which  his  brow  w.as  wet ; 
Yet  how  he  prayed,  unaided  and  alone, 
In  that  great  agony,  '  Thy  will  be  done  ! ' 
Friend,  do  not  thou  despair ; 
Christ,  from  the. heaven  of  heavens,  will  hear  thy 

prayer ! " 


FRIENDS  IN  HEAVEN. 

THE  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  says :  "  When 
we  come  to  heaven  we  shall  meet  with  all  those 
excellent  persons,  those  brave  minds.,  those  in- 
nocent and  charitable  souls,  whom  we  have 
seen,  and  heard,  and  read  of  in  the  world. 
There  we  shall  meet  many  of  our  dear  rela- 
tions and  intimate  friends,  and  perhaps  with 
many  of  our  enemies,  to  whom  we  shall  then 
be  perfectly  reconciled,  notwithstanding  all  the 
warm  contests  and  peevish  differences  which 
we  had  with  them  in  this  world,  even  about 
matters  of  religion.  For  heaven  is  a  state  of 
perfect  love  and  friendship." 

Rev.  Richard  Baxter  says :  "  I  must  confess, 


FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.  103 

as  the  experience  of  ray  own  soul,  that  the  ex- 
pectation of  loving  my  friends  in  heaven  princi- 
pally kindles  my  love  to  them  on  earth.  If  I 
thought  that  I  should  never  know  them,  and 
consequently  never  love  them  after  this  life  is 
ended,  I  should  in  reason  number  them  with 
temporal  things,  and  love  them  as  such.  But 
I  now  delight  to  converse  with  my  pious  friends, 
in  a  firm  persuasion  that  I  shall  converse  with 
them  forever;  and  I  take  comfort  in  those  of 
them  that  are  dead  or  absent,  as  believing  I 
shall  shortly  meet  them  in  heaven,  and  love 
them  with  a  heavenly  love  that  shall  there  be 
perfected." 

Bishop  Hall  says :  "  Thou  hast  lost  thy  friend; 
—  say,  rather  thou  hast  parted  with  him.  That 
is  properly  lost  which  is  past  all  recovery,  which 
we  are  out  of  hope  to  see  any  more.  It  is  not 
so  with  this  friend  thou  mournest  for ;  he  is  but 
gone  home  a  little  before  thee ;  thou  art  follow- 
ing him-;  you  two  shall  meet  in  your  Father's 
house,  and  enjoy  each  other  more  happily  than 
you  could  have  done  here  below." 

Dr.  Doddridge  says :  "  Let  me  be  thankful 
for  the  pleasing  hope  that  though  God  loves 
my  child  too  well  to  permit  it  to  return  to  me, 


104  FRIENDS    IX   HEAVEN. 

he  will  ere  long  bring  me  to  it.  And  then  that 
endeared  paternal  affection,  which  would  have 
been  a  cord  to  tie  me  to  earth,  and  have  added 
new  pangs  to  my  removal  from  it,  will  be  a 
golden  chain  to  draw  me  upwards,  and  add 
one  farther  charm  and  joy  even  to  paradise  it- 
self. Was  this  my  desolation?  this  my  sor- 
row ?  to  part  with  thee  for  a  few  days,  that  I 
might  receive  thee  forever,  (Philemon,  v.  15,) 
and  find  thee  what  thou  art  ?  It  is  for  no  lan- 
guage but  that  of  heaven,  to  describe  the  sacred 
joy  which  such  a  meeting  must  occasion." 

My  Christian  reader,  have  you  lost  near  and 
dear  friends  —  and  did  they  die  in  Jesus  ?  O, 
remember  they  are' not  separated  from  you  for- 
ever—  you  are  going  to  them.  They  are  wait- 
ing to  receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations. 
On  your  arrival  there,  you  will  know  them,  and 
they  will  know  you ;  and  you  will  there  have 
the  most  endeared  society  —  as  it  will  include 
those  to  whom  you  were  so  tenderly  related  by 
the  ties  of  consanguinity,  or  pious  friendship, 
and  at  parting  with  whom,  you  sorrowed  most 
of  all,  that  "  you  should  see  their  face,  and  hear 
their  voice  no  more ; "  and  also  those  you  left 
behind  you  with  reluctance  and  anxiety,  in  a 


FEIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.  105 

world  of  sin  and  trouble.  With  these  your  fel- 
lowship, after  a  brief  separation,  will  be  renew- 
ed, improved,  and  perfected  forever. 

"  There  on  a  green  and  flowery  mount, 

Our  weary  souls  shall  sit, 
And  with  transporting  joys  recount 

The  labors  of  pur  feet." 

*  "  Fathers  and  mothers,  who  have  been  call- 
ed to  yield  to  the  demands  of  death  a  darling 
and  pious  child,  while  yet  the  dew  and  the 
beauty  of  youth  were  fresh  upon  him,  go  forth 
at  the  shout  of  the  archangel,  and  you  will  find 
that  child,  glowing  indeed  with  celestial  beauty 
and  glory,  yet  retaining  something  of  that  same 
expression  which  has  stamped  his  image  so 
deeply  on  your  heart.  And  thou,  disconsolate 
man,  from  whom  death  has  taken  the  wife  of 
your  youth,  go  thou  forth  at  the  same  signal, 
and  you  shall  at  once  distinguish  her  too,  amid 
ascending  millions,  and  become  her  everlasting 
companion,  in  that  world  where  they  neither 
marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage,  but  are  as 
the  angels  of  God.  The  lonely  widow,  too,  let 
her  come,  and  she  shall  recognize  that  counte- 

*  Hitchcock's  Four  Seasons. 


106  FKIENDS    IN    HEAVEN. 

nance,  which  a  noble  soul  and  generous  affec- 
tion have  made  indelible  on  her  heart,  as  once 
her  husband  and  protector,  nor  shall  any  power 
be  able  again  to  tear  him  from  her  side ;  but 
the  holy  joys  of  eternity  shall  be  doubly  sweet, 
because  snjoyed  together.  Children  of  beloved 
Christian  parents,  come  ye,  also,  and  rush  again 
into  the  embrace  of  those  who  gave  you  being, 
and  who  trained  you  up  for  Heaven,  and  they 
shall  take  you  by  the  hand  and  still  be  your 
guides  and  companions  amid  the  wonders  of 
the  new  Jerusalem.  There  likewise  shall  the 
brother  or  sister,  and  the  sister,  who  has  often 
wept  over  a  departed  brother  or  sister,  find 
them  again,  radiant  with  heavenly  glory,  yet 
retaining  the  traces  of  their  earthly  character. 
And  whatever  Christian  weeps  over  the  memory 
of  a  Christian  friend,  let  him  wipe  away  his 
tears,  and  prepare  to  meet  that  friend,  when 
the  graves  have  given  up  their  dead,  with  a 
body  like  unto  Christ's,  yet  fashioned  so  as  to 
make  it  only  a  transmuted  and  glorified  natural 
body,  recognized  by  one  of  those  golden  links 
that  bind  the  natural  to  the  spiritual,  the  mor- 
tal to  the  immortal.  Oh,  blessed  season  of  re- 
cognition and  joy  begun  !  " 


FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.  107 

Mourning  Christian,  how  sweet,  how  cheer- 
ing the  anticipation;  having  finished  the  toils 
and  labors  of  time, — then  with  angels  and  ran- 
somed men,  with  patriarchs,  prophets  and  apos- 
tles, with  our  sainted  parents,  or  bosom  friends, 
our  children,  taken  from  us  in  infancy,  our 
brothers,  our  sisters,  long  separated  from  us,  — 
to  stand  on  the  sea  of  glass,  having  the  harps 
of  God,  and  chant  the  praises  of  Him  who  hath 
abolished  death,  and  brought  life  and  immortal- 
ity to  light. 

"Weep  not,  Christian,  weep  not, 
"Wipe  all  thy  tears  away !  | 

Those  who  leave  thee  sleep  not 
Under  the  cold,  dull  clay ! 

"Weep  not  for  the  Babe !  you  loved, 

So  quickly  from  this  scene  removed, 

A  bud,  that  by  the  stream  of  life  shall  bloom, 

Nor  waste  on  earth  its  sweet  perfume. 

Mother !  let  songs  of  triumph  dry  thy  tears ! 

For,  while  thou  lingerest  on  some  few  dark  years. 

Thy  blessed  offspring  to  his  glorious  place 

Hath  gone  before, 
And  sees  the  brightness  of  his  Father's  face, 

Forevermore 


108  FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN. 

Weep  not,  Christian,  weep  not ; 

Wipe  all  thy  tears  away ! 
Those  who  leave  thee  sleep  not 

Under  the  cold,  dull  clay  ! 

Weep  not  for  the  strong  and  full-grown  man, 

Who  valiantly  the  fight  of  life  began, 

Girt  with  the  sword  that  pierces  from  afar ; 

With  helm  and  shield  and  panoply  of  war,  . 

Hath  he  been  taken  ere  his  work  was  done  ? 

Wafted  aloft  with  all  his  armor  on  ? 

Warriors,  when  summoned  from  their  earthly  posts 

To  yonder  shore, 
Stand  in  the  armies  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts 

Forevermore. 

Weep  not,  Christian,  weep  not, 
Wipe  all  thy  tears  away  ! 

Those  who  leave  thee  sleep  not 
Under  the  cold,  dull  clay ! 

Weep  not,  when  the  old  and  hoary  head 
Sinks  to  repose  among  the  peaceful  dead : 
Who  weeps  for  sorrow  when  the  ripened  corn, 
In  golden  sheaves,  is  to  the  garner  borne  ? 
When  the  slow-laden  swains  all  homeward  come  ? 
And  joyous  reapers  sing  their  harvest-home  ? 


FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.  109 

So,  when  the  life-long  troubles  of  the  blest 

At  length  are  o'er, 
The  angels  gather  them  into  their  rest, 

Forevermore. 

Weep  not,  Christian,  weep  not, 

Wipe  all  thy  tears  away  1 
Those  who  leave  thee  sleep  not 

Under  the  cold,  dull  clay ! 

Weep  not  for  the  dead,  although  they  sleep, 

And  we  alone  our  weary  way  shall  keep. 

They  are  asleep  in  Jesus !     Their  repose 

Beckons  us  upward  through  this  world  of  woes. 

The  day  of  our  deli verance  is  at  hand ! 

With  thoughts  fixed  high  in  Heaven,  on  Earth  we 

stand, 
With  patience  wait  till  angels  from  above 

Shall  ope  the  door, 
Nor  death  shall  part  our  souls  from  those  we  love, 

Forevermore." 


110  HEAVEN. 

HEAVEN. 

Is  HEAVEN  a  place  where  pearly  streams 

Glide  over  silver  sand,    . 
Like  childhood's  rosy,  dazzling  dreams 

Of  some  far  fairy  land  ? 

Is  heaven  a  clime  where  diamond  dews 

Glitter  on  fadeless  flowers, 
And  mirth  and  music  ring  aloud 

From  amaranthine  bowers  ? 

Ah,  no  ;  not  such,  not  such  is  heaven  ! 

Surpassing  far  all  these  ; 
Snch  cannot  be  the  guerdon  given 

Man's  wearied  soul  to  please. 

For j  saints  and  sinners,  here  below, 
Such  vain  to  be  have  proved ; 

And  the  pure  spirit  will  despise 
Whate'er  the  sense  has  loved. 

There  shall  we  dwell  with  Sire  and  Son, 

And  with  the  mother-maid, 
And  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  one, 

In  glory  like  arrayed. 

And  not  to  one  created  thins: 

O 

Shall  one  embrace  be  given  ; 
But  all  our  joy  shall  be  in  God, 
For  only  God  is  heaven. 


ASPIRING    TO    HKAVEN.  Ill 

ASPIRING  TO  HEAVEN. 

YES,  let  me  die !   am  I  of  spirit-birth, 
And  shall  I  linger  where  spirits  fell, 
Loving  the  stain  they  cast  on  all  of  earth  ? 

0  make  me  pure,  with  pure  ones  e'er  to  dwell. 

'Tis  sweet  to  die !     The  flowers  of  earthly  love, 
(Fair  frail  spring-blossoms)  early  droop  to  die. 
But  all  their  fragrance  is  exhaled  above, 
Upon  our  spirits  evermore  to  lie. 

Life  is  a  dream,  a  bright  but  fleeting  dream, 

1  can  but  love  ;  but  then  my  soul  awakes, 
And,  from  the  mist  of  earthliness,  a  gleam 
Of  heavenly  light,  of  truth  immortal,  breaks. 

But  heaven  is  dearer !   There  I  have  my  treasure  ; 
There  angels  fold,  in  love,  their  snowy  wings  ; 
There  sainted  lips  chant  hi  celestial  measure, 
And  spirit-fingers  stray  o'er  heaven-wrought  strings. 

There  loving  eyes  are  to  the  portals  straying  ; 
There  arms  extend,  a  wanderer  to  fold  ; 
There  waits  a  dearer,  holier  One  arraying 
His  own  in  spotless  robes,  and  crowns  of  gol<L 

Then  let  die.     My  spirit  longs  for  heaven, 
In  that  pure  bosom  evermore  to  rest ; 
But  if  to  labor  longer  here  be  given, 
"  Father,  thy  will  be  done,"  and  I  am  blest. 


112  ASPIRING    TO    HEAVEN. 

MOTHER  AND  HEAVEN. 

"  The  two  sweetest  words  in  the  English  language,  are 
Mother  and  Heaven." 

"MOTHER  — 
THE  first  fond  word  our  hearts  express, 

In  childhood's  rosy  hours  ; 
When  life  seems  full  of  happiness, 

As  Nature  is  of  flowers ; 
A  word  that  manhood  loves  to  speak 
When  Time  has  placed  upon  his  cheek, 

And  written  on  his  brow, 
Stern  lessons  of  the  world's  untruth, 
Unheeded  in  his  thoughtless  youth, 

But  sadly  pondered  now, 
As  time  brings  back,  'mid  vanished  years, 
A  mother's  fondest  hopes  and  fears. 

HEAVEN  — • 
The  end  of  all  a  mother's  prayers, 

The  home  of  all  her  dreams ; 
The  guiding  star  to  light  our  path 

With  hope's  enchanting  beams  ; 
The  haven  for  our  storm-tossed  bark, 
From  out  a  world  where,  wild  and  dark, 

The  tempests  often  rise  ; 
And  still,  in  every  darksome  hour, 

This  hope  will  rise,  with  holy  power, 

And  point  us  to  the  skies, 
Where  Mother,  Home,  and  Heaven  are  seen 
Without  a  cloud  to  intervene." 


TO    MY   WIFE   IN   HEAVEX.  113 


TO  MY  WIFE  IN  HEAVEN. 

BELOVED,  in  your  bright  world  of  purest  bliss 
Dost  still  love  those  whom  thou  didst  love  in  this 
Do  thoughts  of  joys  we  've  shared  together  here, 
Come  to  thee,  ever,  in  that  blissful  sphere  ? 
Thy  heart  of  love  so  pure  and  so  divine, 
Oh,  is  it  still-beloved, -still  is  it  mine? 

Yes,  by  the  joys  which  now  my  full  heart  thrill, 
I  feel,  I  know  thou  lov'st  thy  husband  still ; 
Thy  husband  now  ;  though  thou  art  gone  above, 
Thou  hast  not  fled  beyond  my  constant  love. 
Death  hath  no  shade  my  love  would  fear  to  meet ; 
I  feel,  to  love  a  wife  in  heaven,  'tis  sweet. 

And  though  now  left  to  journey  on  alone, 
The  joys  thy  presence  gave  forever  flown, 
One  hope  doth  brightly  o'er  the  dark  way  shine : 
'Tis  that  in  heaven  I  soon  shall  find  thee  mine  ; 
Where  no  more  doubt,  or  anxious  fears  shall  rise, 
'Nor  parting  tears  again  shall  dim  our  eyes. 

0,  'twill  be  sweet  to  meet  on  that  blest  shore, 
All  sorrows  pass'd,  all  pains  forever  o'er ; 
My  soul,  impatient,  longs  to  soar  away 
To  those  bright  realms  where  thou  dost  waiting  stay 
To  greet  my  coming,  and  the  joys  relate, 
Which  thou  art  sharing  now  in  that  blest  state. 
8 


114        SUFFERING   EXCHANGED   FOR   HEAVEN. 

O,  'twill  be  sweet  from  thy  dear  lips  to  hear 

The  joys  which  thou  hast  found  in  fulness  there ; 

To  hasten  on,  with  thy  dear  hand  in  mine, 

Up  to  the  throne  where  sits  our  Lord  divine ; 

To  walk  together  by  the  crystal  stream, 

While  Christ  and  his  great  love  shall  be  our  theme. 

My  prisoned  spirit  sighs  to  be  at  rest, 

With  thee,  beloved,  in  that  sweet  home  so  blest 


SUFFERING  EXCHANGED  FOR  HEAVEN. 

"  OH  !  what  a  mighty  change 

Shall  Jesus's.  sufferers  know, 
While  o'er  the  happy  plains  they  range, 

Incapable  of  wo ! 
No  ill-requited  love 

Shall  there  our  spirits  wound, 
No  base  ingratitude  above, 

No  sin  in  heaven  is  found. 

There  all  our  griefs  are  spent, 

There  all  our  sufferings  end  ; 
We  cannot  there  the  fall  lament 

Of  a  departed  friend, 
A  brother,  dead  to  God, 

By  sin,  alas !   undone  — 
No  father  there,  in  passion  loud, 

Cries,  oh,  my  son!   my  son. 


HE  DWELLETH  IN  HEAVEN.        115 


HE  DWELLETH  IN  HEAVEN. 

HE  dwelleth  in  heaven :  never  more  on  the  earth 
Shall  his  voice  swell  the  cadence  of  music  and  mirth ; 
Never  more  shall  his  form  that  so  manfully  moved 
E'er  gladden  our  hearts  in  the  home  that  he  loved. 

He  dwelleth  hi  Heaven :  earth's  conflicts  are  o'er, 
He  has  sought,  he  has  found  that  radiant  shore, 
To  which  his  eye  turned  while  he  dwelt  with  us  here, 
And  which  to  the  pure  and  the  loving  is  near. 

He  dwelleth  in  Heaven :  he  is  free  from  earth's  stains, 
Never  more  shall  he  suffer  its  sorrows  and  pains : 
Never  more  shall  he  bend  'neath  the  Chastener's  rod, 
For  ransomed  and  joyful  he  dwells  with  his  God. 

He  dwelleth  in  Heaven :  he  waits  for  us  there, 
He  would  that  we  all  should  his  blessedness  share ; 
He  comes  to  us  oft  in  the  dreams  of  the  night, 
And  calls  us  to  join  him  in  mansions  of  light. 

He  dwelleth  in  Heaven :  yet  deep  in  our  hearts 
His  image  is  graven,  and  never  departs ; 
And  while  we  yet  linger,  we  watch  and  we  wait, 
Till  death,  who  has  parted,  again  shall  unite. 


116  A   HOME   IN   HEAVEN. 


A  HOME  IN  HEAVEN. 

A  HOME  in  Heaven !  when  our  pleasures  fade, 
And  our  wealth  and  fame  in  the  dust  are  laid ; 
And  strength  decays,  and  our  health  is  riven, 
"We  are  happy  still  with  our  home  in  Heaven. 

A  home  in  Heaven !  when  the  faint  heart  bleeds, 
By  the  Spirit's  stroke,  for  its  evil  deeds ; 
O !  then,  what  bliss  in  that  heart  forgiven, 
Does  the  hope  inspire  of  a  home  in  Heaven ! 

A  home  in  Heaven  !  when  our  friends  are  fled 
To  the  cheerless  gloom  of  the  mouldering  dead ; 
"We  wait  in  hope  of  the  promise  given ; 
We  will  up  there  in  our  home  in  Heaven. 

A  home  in  Heaven !  when  the  wheel  is  broke, 
And  the  golden  bowl,  by  the  terror-stroke ; 
"When  life's  bright  sun  sinks  in  death's  dark  even, 
"We  will  then  fly  up  to  our  home  in  Heaven. 

A  home  in  Heaven  !  oh,  the  glorious  home ! 
And  the  Spirit,  joined  with  the  Bride,  says,  come ! 
Come,  seek  his  face,  and  your  sins  forgiven, 
And  rejoice  in  hope  of  your  home  in  Heaven. 


THE   HEAVENLY   FRIEND.  117 

THE  HEAVENLY  FRIEND. 

THERE  is  a  friend  above, 
Whose  pure  affection  far  transcends  all  others ; 
No  earthly  kindred,  parents,  sisters,  brothers, 

Like  Jesus,  love. 

His  friendship  is  sincere, 

And  firm,  and  changeless,  not  like  meteors  gleaming ; 
But  on  his  ransomed  ones  'tis  ever  beaming, 
•Bright,  calm  and  clear. 

He  is  a  faithful  friend ; 
In  him  the  trembling  soul,  in  hope  confiding 
May  safely  trust,  —  his  love  is  e'er  abiding, 

Even  to  the  end. 

His  sympathy  how  sweet ! 
Like  softest  music  o'er  the  spirit  stealing ; 
It  soothes  the  troubled  heart  with  heavenly  healing, 

And  joy  complete. 

His  words  of  glorious  truth, 
Like  cadences  of  love  from  heaven  descending, 
Allure  and  guide  to  scenes  of  bliss  unending, 

And  fadeless  youth. 

He,  with  Almighty  power, 
Can  give  support  when  earthly  hopes  are  dying ; 
And  safe  is  every  soul  to  Jesus  flying, 

In  trial's  hour. 


118  IN   HEAVEN. 

Celestial,  peerless  friend ! 

Around  me  cast  thy  kind  and  sheltering  pinions ; 
And  take  my  spirit  to  thy  blest  dominions, 

When  life  shall  end. 

O,  give  that  gracious  Guest 

A  throne  in  every  heart,  earth's  sons  and  daughters ! 
His  friendship  is  a  fount  of  living  waters, 

And  heavenly  rest. 


IN  HEAVEN. 

OFT  weeping  memory  sits  alone, 

Beside  some  grave,  at  even, 
And  calls  upon  some  spirit  flown, 
O,  say,  shall  those  on  earth  our  own 
Be  ours  again  in  heaven  ? 

Amid  these  lone,  sepulchral  shades, 
Where  sleep  our  dear  ones  riven, 
Is  not  some  lingering  spirit  near, 
To  tell  if  those,  divided  here, 
Unite  and  know  in  heaven  ? 

Shall  friends  who  o'er  the  waste  of  life 

By  the  same  storms  are  driven, 
Shall  they  recount,  in  realms  of  bliss, 
The  fortunes  and  the  tears  of  this, 
And  love  again  in  heaven  ? 


KT  HEAVEN.  .          119 

When  hearts  which  have  on  earth  been  one 

By  ruthless  death  are  riven, 
Why  does  the  one  which  death  has  reft 
Drag  off  in  grief  the  one  that's  left, 

If  not  to  meet  in  heaven  ? 

The  warmest  love  on  earth  is  still 

Imperfect  when  'tis  given ; 
But  there's  a  purer  clime  above, 
Where  perfect  hearts  in  perfect  love 

Unite ;  and  this  in  heaven. 

If  love  on  earth  is  but  in  part, 

As  light  and  shade  at  even,  — 
If  sin  doth  plant  a  thorn  between 
The  truest  hearts,  —  there  is,  I  ween, 

A  perfect  love  in  heaven. 

* 

O,  happy  world !  O,  glorious  place ! 

Where  all  who  are  forgiven 
Shall  find  their  loved  and  lost  below, 
And  hearts,  like  meeting  streams,  shall  flow 

Forever  me,  in  heaven. 


120  MINISTERING   SPIRITS. 

MINISTERING  SPIRITS. 

THE  re-union  of  parents  and  children  in  hea- 
ven, as  well  as  of  other  earthly  friends,  is  a 
cheering  and  delightful  thought.  And  the  idea 
that  our  departed  friends  may  sometimes  be 
near  us,  or  wait  to  welcome  us  on  the  borders 
of  that  spirit-land,  is  well  suited  to  impress  the 
mind. 

A  little  girl  in  the  family  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, a  lovely  and  precious  child,  lost  her 
mother  at  an  age  too  early  to  fix  the  loved  fea- 
tures on  her  remembrance.  She  was  as  frail  as 
beautiful ;  and  as  the  bud  of  her  heart  unfolded, 
it  seemed  as  if  won  by  that  mother's  prayers  to 
turn  instinctively  heavenward.  The  sweet, 
conscientious,  prayer-loving  child,  was  the  cher- 
ished one  of  the  bereaved  family.  But  she 
faded  away  early.  She  would  lie  upon  the  lap 
of  her  friend,  who  took  a  mother's  kind  care  of 
her,  and  winding  one  wasted  arm  about  her 
neck,  would  say,  "  Now  tell  me  about  my 
mamma."  And  when  the  oft-told  tale  had  been 
repeated,  she  would  ask  softly,  «  Take  me  into 
the  parlor :  I  want  to  see  my  mamma."  The 
repuest  was  never  refused,  ana  the  affectionate 


MINISTERING    SPIRITS.  121 

child  would  lie  for  hours  contentedly  gazing  on 
her  mother's  portrait.     But  — 

u  Pale  and  wan  she  grew,  and  weakly  — 
Bearing  all  her  pain  so  meekly, 
That  to  them  she  still  grew  dearer, 
As  the  trial  hour  drew  nearer." 

The  hour  came  at  last,  and  the  weeping 
neighbors  assembled  to  see  the  child  die.  The 
dew  of  death  was  already  on  the  flower,  as  the 
life  sun  was  going  down.  The  little  chest 
heaved  faintly  —  spasmodically. 

"Do  you  know  me,  darling?"  sobbed  close 
to  her  ear,  the  voice  that  was  dearest ;  but  it 
awoke  no  answer. 

All  at  once  a  brightness,  as  if  from  the  upper 
world,  burst  over  the  child's  colorless  counte- 
nance. The  eye-lids  flashed  open,  the  lips 
parted,  the  wan  cuddling  hands  flew  up,  in  the 
little  one's  last  impulsive  effort,  as  she  looked 
piercingly  into  the  far  above. 

"  Mother ! "  she  cried,  with  surprise  and 
transport  in  her  tone  —  and  passed  with  that 
breath  into  her  mother's  bosom. 

Said  a  distinguished  divine  who  stood  by 
that  bed  of  joyous  death : 

<(  If  I  never  believed  in  the  ministration  of 
departed  ones  before  I  could  not  doubt  it  now.'» 


122  "MINISTERING  SPIRITS." 

"ARE    THEY   NOT    ALL    MINISTERING 
SPIRITS?" 

OH  !  the  wind  sounds  sad  and  dreary, 

Blowing  up  from  off  the  bay; 
But  the  fire  looks  bright  and  cheery, 

Blazing  on  the  hearth  away, 
As  I  sit  all  sad  and  weary, 

For  I've  been  alone  to-day. 

Coldly  down  the  moon  is  beaming, 
Making  all  things  clear  and  bright ; 

And  far  away  the  waves  are  gleaming, 
Tossing  in  her  silver  light. 

Watching  them,  I  sit  here  dreaming, 
Dreaming  all  alone  to-night. 

Did  I  hear  a  low  soft  sighing, 

In  the  corner  far  away  ? 
Quick  I  turn  and  see  there  lying, 

As  she  often  used  to  lay, 
One,  who  in  this  room  was  dying 

Just  one  year  ago  to-day. 

From  her  long,  deep  slumber  waking, 

Do  I  hear  her  voice  once  more  ? 
Yes!   my  name  she's  softly  speaking, 

As  she  used,  in  days  of  yore, 
Ere  the  angels  love's  bonds  breaking, 

From  our  hearts  our  treasure  tore. 


"  MIXISTERING   SPIRITS."  123 

Thou  art  not  alone,  my  sister ; 

(These  the  words  she  spake  to  me) 
Though  in  life's  rough  walks  thou'st  missed  her, 

Still  thy  darling  is  with  thee. 
And  forevermore,  dear  sister, 

Hovering  round  thy  path  will  be. 

Did  I  hear  thee  murmur,  dearest, 

That  thou  wast  alone  to-night  ? 
Know,  e'en  then,  to  thee  were  nearest 

Spirits  clothed  in  spotless  white. 
Unseen,  she,  whose  voice  thou  nearest, 

Brushed  thee  with  her  pinions  bright. 

Quickly  toward  the  phantom  starting, 

Ah  !  the  vision  bright  has  flown ; 
But  the  words  she  gave  me,  parting, 

"  Sister,  thou  art  not  alone," 
From  my  memory  ne'er  departing, 

Cheer  me  as  I  journey  on. 

Oh !   if  life  be  dark  and  dreary, 

"Wrapped  in  clouds  of  sombre  hue, 
If  my  way  be  wild  and  weary, 

Thorns  be  many,  roses  few, 
This  thought  shall  my  heart  make  cheery :  — 

"  Sister,  ever  I'm  with  you  " 


124  FAREWELL    TO    EARTHLY   JOTS. 


FAREWELL  TO  EARTHLY  JOYS. 

THERE  was  a  time  when  life,  to  me, 
Seemed  but  a  flowing  measure  ; 

When  I  was  always  full  of  glee, 
And  every  scene  a  pleasure. 

But  they  are  past — those  merry  days — 

I'm  now  to  sadness  given ; 
My  soul  witliin  me  ever  prays 

To  find  a  home  in  heaven. 

I  know  that  beautiful  is  earth, 

But  to  yon  land  are  given 
Bright  scenes  of  more  exalted  worth— 

That  "better  land"  is  heaven. 

And  though  the  earth  itself  is  grand, 
Through  life  I'm  madly  driven; 

I'm  longing  for  that  "better  land," 
Where  lasting  joys  are  given. 

And  it  is  there  my  bark  I'll  guide; 

I'll  bear  all  sorrows  given, 
Still  trusting  in  the  hope  of  an 

Eternal  bliss  in  heaven. 


THE    REFUGE.  125 


THE   REFUGE. 

TURK  from  this  world ; — 'tis  not  thy  home ! 
From  wave  to  wave  why  wilt  thou  roam  — 
Like  yon  small  lovely  speck  of  foam 
.  On  ocean's  ever-heaving  breast  ? 
If  tossed  by  every  storm  that  blows, 
Brightened  by  every  gleam  that  glows, 
And  melted  by  each  tear  that  flows, 
Canst  thou  find  rest  ? 

Could  wealth  to  thee  true  joy  impart  ? 
Can  giddy  pleasure  charm  thy  heart  ? 
Or  splendor  soothe  its  secret  smart  — 

Or  heal  its  pain  ? 

Could  taste  —  could  feelings  most  refined  — 
Can  all  the  stories  of  art  combined  — 
E'en  'midst  the  favored  sons  of  mind, 

Thou'st  bought  in  .vain  ? 

Is  there  no  shelter  to  be  found, 

When  clouds  and  darkness  gather  round, 

And  e'en  the  deep  fix'd  solid  ground 

Is  earthquake  riven? 
Is  there  no  sure,  no  certain  stay, 
No  lamp  to  guide  the  wanderer's  way, 
And  pour  around  its  cheering  ray, 

In  mercy  given  ? 


126       THE  ANGEL  OP  THE  LEAVES. 

Turn  to  the  world  that  may  be  thine, 
Where  love  and  peace  forever  join  ! 
Look  up !  behold  that  mystic  sign  — 

Make  it  thine  own  ! 

Then  shall  the  storms  that  rend  thy  breast, 
Be  hush'd  to  everlasting  rest, 
And  thou  received  a  welcome  guest 

Beneath  His  throne ! 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LEAVES 

"  ALAS  !  alas ! "  said  the  sorrowing  Tree, 
"  my  beautiful  robe  is  gone ;  it  has  been  torn 
from  me ;  its  faded  pieces  whirl  upon  the  wind, 
they  rustle  beneath  the  squirrel's  foot  as  he 
searches  for  his  nut ;  they  float  upon  the  pass- 
ing stream,  and  on  the  quivering  lake.  Wo  is 
me!  for  my  dear  green  verdure  is  gone.  It 
was  the  gift  of  the  Leaves !  1  -have  lost  it,  and 
my  glory  is  vanished  and  my  beauty  has  disap- 
peared, my  summer  honors  have  passed  away. 
My  bright  and  comely  garment,  alas !  it  is  rent 
into  a  thousand  parts ;  who  will  weave  me  such 
another?  Piece  by  piece  has  been  stripped 
from  me.  Scarcely  did  I  sigh  for  the  loss  of 
one,  ere  another  wandered  off  on  air.  The 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  XEAVES.        127 

sweet  sound  of  music  cheers  me  no  more.  The 
birds  that  sang  on  my  bosom  were  dismayed  at 
my  desolation  —  they  have  flown  away  with 
their  songs. 

"  I  stood  in  my  pride.  The  sun  brightened 
my  robe  with  his  smile ;  the  zephyrs  breathed 
softly  through  its  glossy  folds ;  the  clouds 
strewed  pearls  among  them.  My  shadow  was 
wide  upon  the  earth,  my  head  was  lifted  high, 
and  my  forehead  was  fair  to  the  heavens.  But 
now,  how  changed !  Sadness  is  upon  me,  my 
head  is  shorn,  my  arms  are  stripped,  and  I  can- 
not throw  a  shadow  on  the  ground.  Beauty 
has  departed ;  gladness  has  gone  out  of  my 
bosom.  The  blood  has  retired  from  my  heart, 
and  sunk  into  the  earth.  I  am  thirsty.  I  am 
cold.  My  naked  limbs  shiver  in  the  chilly  air ; 
the  keen  blast  comes  pitiless  among  them. 
The  winter  is  coming.  I  am  destitute ;  sorrow 
is  my  portion  ;  mourning  must  wear  me  away. 
How  shall  I  account  to  the  Angel  who  clothed 
me  for  the  loss  of  his  beautiful  gift  ?  " 

The  Angel  had  been  listening.  In  soothing 
accents  he  answered  the  lamentation. 

"  My  beloved  Tree,"  said  he,  "  be  comforted ! 
I  am  by  thee  still,  though  every  leaf  has  for- 


128        THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LEAVES. 

saken  thee.  The  voice  of  gladness  is  hushed 
among  thy  boughs,  but  let  ray  whisper  console 
thee.  Thy  sorrow  is  but  for  a  season.  Trust 
in  me.  Keep  my  promise  in  thy  heart.  Be 
patient  and  full  of  hope.  Let  the  words  I 
leave  with  thee,  abide  and  cheer  thee  through 
the  coming  winter.  Then  will  I  come  and 
clothe  thee  anew. 

"  The  storm  will  drive  over  thee,  the  snow 
will  sift  among  thy  naked  limbs.  But  these 
will  be  light  and  passing  afflictions.  The  ice 
will  weigh  heavily  on  thy  helpless  arms,  but  it 
will  soon  dissolve  to  tears.  It  shall  pass  into 
the  ground,  and  be  drunken  by  the  roots. 
Then  it  will  creep  up,  in  secret,  beneath  thy 
bark,  and  spread  into  the  branches  it  has  op- 
pressed, and  help  to  adorn  them.  I  shall  be 
here  to  use  it. 

"  The  blood  has  now  retired  for  safety.  The 
frost  will  chill  and  destroy  it.  It  has  gone  into 
thy  mother's  bosom  for  her  to  keep  it  warm. 
Earth  will  not  rob  her  offspring.  She  is  a 
careful  parent ;  she  knows  all  the  wants  of  her 
children,  and  forgets  not  to  provide  for  the 
least  of  them.  The  sap  that  has  for  a*while 
gone  down,  will  make  thy  roots  strike  deeper 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LEAVES.       129 

and  spread  wider,  and  renewed  and  strength- 
ened, it  shall  return  to  nourish  thy  heart 
Then,  if  thou  shalt  have  remembered  and 
trusted  in  my  promise,  I  will  fulfil  it  Buds 
snail  shoot  forth  on  every  bough.  I  will  enfold 
another  robe  for  thee.  I  will  color  and  fit  it 
in  every  part  It  shall  be  a  comely  raiment 
Sadness  shall  be  swallowed  up  in  joy.  Now, 
my  beloved  tree,  fare  thee  well  for  a  season." 

The  Angel  was  gone.  The  cold  muttering 
winter  drew  near.  The  wild  blast  whistled  for 
the  storm.  But  the  words  of  the  Angel  were 
hidden  in  her  heart  It  soothed  her  amid  the 
threaten! ngs  of  the  tempest.  The  ice-cakes 

rattled  on  her  limbs  and  loaded  and  weighed 

• 
them  down. 

"  My  slender  branches,"  said  she,  "  let  not  this 
burden  overcome  you !  Break  not  beneath  this 
heavy  affliction  —  break  not !  but  bend,  till  you 
can  spring  back  to  your  places.  Let  not  a  twig 
of  you  be  lost.  Hope  must  prop  you  up  for  a 
while,  and  the  Angel  will  reward  your  patience. 
You  will  wave  in  a  softer  air.  Grace  shall  be 
again  in  your  motion,  and  a  renewed  beauty 
hang  around  you." 

The  scowling  face  of  winter  began  to  lose  its 
9 


130  THE   ANGEL    OF   THE   LEAVES. 

features.  The  raging  storm  grew  faint,  and 
breathed  its  last.  The  clouds  fretted  themselves 
to  fragments,  these  scattered  to  fragments  on  the 
sky,  and  were  brushed  away.  The  .sun  threw 
down  a  bundle  of  golden  arrows,  that  fell  upon 
the  Tree.  The  ice-cakes  withered  as  they  came. 
Every  one  was  shattered  by  a  shaft,  and  unlock- 
ed itself  upon  the  limb.  They  melted  and  were 
gone. 

Spring  had  come  to  reign.  His  blessed  min- 
isters were  abroad  in  the  earth.  They  hovered 
in  the  air.  They  blended  their  beautiful  tints, 
and  cast  a  new-created  glory  on  the  face  of  the 
blue  heavens.- 

The  Tree  was  rewarded  for  her  trust.  The 
Angel  was  true  to  the  object  of  his  love.  He 
returned  —  he  bestowed  on  her  another  robe. 
It  was  bright,  glossy,  and  unsullied.  The  dust 
of  summer  had  never  lit  upon  it ;  the  scorching 
heat  had  not  faded  it ;  the  moth  had  not  pro- 
faned it.  The  Tree  stood  again  in  loveliness  ; 
she  was  dressed  in  more  than  her  former  beauty. 
She  was  fair,  joy  smiled  around  her  on  every 
side.  The  birds  flew  back  to  her  bosom,  and 
Bung  among  her  branches  their  hymns  to  the 
ANGEL  OF  THE  LEAVES. 


CHILD   AND    THE   ANGELS.  131 


CHILD  AND  THE  ANGELS. 

THE  Sabbath  sun  was  setting  low, 

Amidst  the  clouds  of  even ; 
"  Our  Father ! "  breathed  a  voice  below, — 

"  Father  who  art  in  Heaven." 

Beyond  the  earth,  beyond  the  clouds,  — 

Those  infant  worcL  were  given; 
"  Our  Father"  —  angels  sang  aloud, 
"  Father  who  art  in  Heaven ! " 

"  Thy  kingdom  come,"  still  from  the  ground, 

That  child-like  voice  did  pray. 
"  Thy  kingdom  come ! "  God's  hosts  resound, 

Far  up  the  starry  way ! 

"  Thy  will  be  done ! "  with  little  tongue, 

That  lisping  love  implores. 
"  Thy  will  be  done ! "  the  angelic  throng 

Sing  fro:n  seraphic  shores. 

"  For  ever ! "  still  those  lips  repeat 

Then*  closing  evening  prayer ; 
"  For  ever  "  floats  in  music  sweet, 

High  'raids!  the  angels  there. 


132  LITTLE   ANGEL   NELLIE. 


LITTLE  ANGEL  NELLIE. 

WHEN  the  drooping  blue  bells  lingered 
On  the  mossy  grass-grown  hill, 

And  the  little  snowy  star-flower 
Bent  upon  the  flowing  rill ; 

When  the  lovely  babe  of  summer 
Wooed  the  breezes  wandering  by, 

Then  our  little  angel  Nellie 
Folded  her  soft  wings  to  die  ; 

Twilight  had  her  curtains  gathered, 
Pinned  them  gently  with  a  star, 

And  the  fragrant  summer  zephyrs 
Floated  sweetly  from  afar ; 

Softly  kissed  the  marble  forehead 

Of  our  little  guileless  one, 
Lightly  waved  the  golden  ringlets 

Tinted  by  the  setting  sun. 

Then  the  snowy  lid  was  lifted 
From  above  the  violet  eye, 

And  a  voice  of  music  silvery 

Whispered  low,  a  sweet  good-bye. 

Tearful  eyes  were  bending  o'er  her, 
Lent  "  love  glories  "  to  her  own ; 

Gentle  voices,  sad  and  mournful, 
Answered  low  her  trembling  tone. 


DREAMING   OF  ANGELS.  133 

But  the  idol  fair  was  shattered, 

Sweetly  had  the  spirit  fled ; 
Plumed  were  her  bright  wings  for  heaven, 
And  the  blue-eyed  one  was  dead. 

Then  with  care  the  shining  ringlets 
Twined  they  from  her  marble  brow, 

Clasped  the  dimpled  hand  and  whispered— 
"  Nellie  is  an  angel  now.*' 

Pressed  the  last  kiss  on  her  forehead, 
Round  her  wrapped  the  robe  of  white, 

Rosebuds  twined  amid  her  tresses  — 
Sadly  breathed  the  last  good-night. 

Heaven  retaineth  now  our  treasure, 

Earth  the  lowly  casket  keeps : 
And  the  sunbeams  love  to  linger 

Where  our  little  Nellie  sleeps. 


DREAMING  OF  ANGELS. 

COME  in  beautiful  dreams,  love, 

0  come  to  me  oft, 
When  the  light  wing  of  sleep 

On  my  bosom  lies  soft ; 
0  come  when  the  sea, 

In  the  moon's  gentle  light, 


134  DREAMING   OF  ANGELS. 

Beats  low  on  the  ear, 

Like  the  pulse  of  the  night — 

When  the  sky  and  the  wave 
Wear  their  loveliest  hue, 

When  the  dew's  on  the  flower, 
And  the  star  on  the  dew. 

Come  in  beautiful  dreams,  love, 

0  come,  and  we'll  stray 
Where  the  whole  year  is  crowned 

With  the  blossoms  of  May  — 
Where  each  sound  is  as  sweet 

As  the  coo  of  the  dove, 
And  the  gales  are  as  soft 

As  the  breathings  of  love ; 
Where  the  winds  kiss  the  waves 

And  the  waves  kiss  the  beach, 
And  our  warm  lips  may  catch 

The  sweet  lessons  they  teach. 

Come  in  beautiful  dreams,  love, 

O  come,  and  we'll  fly,    ,, 
Like  two  winged  spirits 

Of  love  through  the  sky ; 
With  hand  clasped  in  hand, 

On  dream-wings  we'll  go, 
Where  the  starlight  and  moonlight 

Are  blending  their  glow ; 


CAN   WE   FORGET   DEPARTED   FRIENDS?       135 

And  on  bright  clouds  we'll  linger 

Through  long  dreary  hours, 
'Till  love's  angels  envy 

That  heaven  of  ours. 


CAN  WE  FORGET  DEPARTED  FRIENDS? 

WHO  ever  looked  upon  yon  starry  spheres, 

Which  brightly  shine  from  out  the  dark-blue  sky, 
Nor  called  to  mind  the  friends  of  other  years, 
The  hopes,  the  joys,  the  transient  smiles  and  tears, 
Gushing  from  out  where  hurried  memories  lie,  . 
And  waking  the  full  heart  to  highest  ecstasy? 

0,  what  a  glorious  vision,  when  the  moon, 

Silently  gliding  through  her  pathless  way, 
Has  reached  the  extremest  point  of  her  high  noon, 
Shedding  o'er  this  our  earth  her  radiant  boon, 
While  twinkling  stars,  and  orbs  of  steadier  ray, 
Shine  with  a  light  that  mocks  the  intenser  glare  of 
day. 

O,  who  has  ever  gazed  on  such  a  scene, 

Nor  thought  the  spirit  of  the  blest  were  there  ? 
Who,  that  beholds  not  in  that  blue  serene 
Bright  isles,  the  abode  of  pleasures  yet  unseen, 
Except  by  those  who,  freed  from  mortal  care, 
Have  winged  their  raptured  flight  to  realms  of  up- 
per air. 


136        CAN   WE   FORGET   DEPARTED   FRIENDS? 

The  mother,  who  has  watched  with  sleepless  eye 

Her  babe,  and  rocked  with  tireless  foot  the  while, 
And  when  she  saw  the  little  sufferer  die, 
Bowed  her  meek  head,  and  wept  in  agony, 
Fancies  she  hears,  in  yonder  starry  isle, 
Her  little  cherub's  voice,  and  sees  his  angel  smile. 

0,  ye  departed  spirits  of  my  sires, 

And  ye,  the  loved  ones  of  my  childhood's  days, 
While  now  I  look  on  yonder  heavenly  fires, 
Methinks  I  hear  you  tune  your  seraph  lyres ; 
Methinks  I  see  you  bend  your  pitying  gaze 
On  him  who  still  must  tread  alone  earth's  gloomy 

maze. 

Jf* 

Thou  angel  spirit,  who  so  oft  didst  sing 

My  infant  cares  to  sleep  upon  thy  breast, 
Let  me  but  hear  the  rustling  of  thy  wing 
Around  thy  child  its  guardian  influence  fling ! 
O,  come  thou  from  the  island  of  the  blest, 

And  bear  my  weary  soul  up  to  thy  sainted  rest ! 

I 
Can  we  forget  departed  friends  ?    Ah,  no ! 

Within  our  hearts  their  memory  buried  lies ; 
The  thought  that  where  they  are  we  too  shall  go 
Will  cast  a  light  o'er  darkest  scenes  of  woe  ! 
For  to  their  own  blest  dwellings  in  the  skies, 
The  souls  whom  Christ  sets  free  exultingly  shall 
rise! 


THE   ANGEL   FORMS.  137 


THE  ANGEL  FOKMS. 

I  HAD  a  dream.  It  was  one  dark  and  gloomy 
night,  in  the  cold  and  dreary  season  of  autumn, 
just  as  the  snows  of  winter  were  about  to  come 
driving  on  according  to  the  course  of  nature's 
fixed  and  changeless  laws.  The  evening  in  ' 
question  was  very  much  in  similarity  to  some 
that  are  passing  at  the  present  time,  bleak,  cold 
and  cheerless,  causing  one  to  draw  nearer  the 
heated  grate,  as  of  some  old  familiar  friend. 
Upon  this  eventful  evening  atl  had  retired  to 
embrace  the  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep. 

I  had,  during  the  day,  been  thinking  of  our 
dear  little  Willie,  who  had  one  short  week  be- 
fore been  consigned  to  the  cold  and  silent  home 
of  the  dead.  His  little  form  that  before  was 
most  dear  to  me,  seemed  to  flit  before  my 
vision,  from  "  rnorn  till  dewy  eve,"  and  more 
particularly  at  this  time  I  had  new  and  pecu- 
liar scenes  brought  to  my  enraptured  gaze.  I 
had  retired  and  but  just  fallen  into  a  kind  of 
reverie,  when  all  at  once  it  seemed  as  if  a  light 
suddenly  came  stealing  into  my  room.  —  From 
whence  it  issued  I  know  not. 


138  THE    ANGEL    FORMS. 

I  was  in  a  gorgeous  palace,  somewhat  simi- 
lar to  Aladdin's,  so  beautifully  portrayed  in  the 
Arabian  Nights  Entertainment,  decked  with 
jewels  bright  and  lovely.  I  cannot  give  a  good 
description  if  I  would. 

Pen  cannot  record  it,  and  if  it  could,  imagi- 
nation could  not  reveal  it,  no,  for  it  was  a  glory 
such  as  angels  in  heaven  cannot  express.  Suf- 
fice to  say,  the  windows  were  composed  of 
precious  stones,  and  glass  of  the  purest  and 
richest  hue,  vicing  even  with  the  bright  colors 
of  the  rainbow  that  tints  the  eastern  sky ;  the 
doors  were  of  pure  gold,  of  the  brightest  kind ; 
the  floors  were  of  sparkling  glass,  resembling 
the  surface  of  some  clear  shaded  stream,  when 
here  and  there  a  star,  more  fortunate  than  its 
neighbor,  peeped  down  to  its  depths  below,  cast- 
ing its  reflection  back  like  a  faint  ray  of 
the  morning  sun  through  the  frosted  trees. 
Taking  all  in  all,  it  appeared  to  me  as  that 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal,  and  in  the 
heavens. 

The  light  that  first  came  peeping  in  seemed 
to  come  nearer  and  nearer,  until  it  was  just  at 
t,he  entrance  of  my  door.  Here  a  pause  ensued, 
as  of  some  one  listening.  In  a  few  moments 


THE    ANGEL   FORMS.  139 

I  heard  a  sound,  but  what  it  was  I  know  not. 
I  tried  to  grasp  but  one  word,  and  soon  —  yes, 
very  soon,  to  my  joy,  I  heard  a  single  word. 
In  gentle  tones,  as  from  the  tomb,  the  faint 
echo  came  to  my  ear,  "  Lizzie ! " 

I  was  still  in  suspense,  as  to  whom  it  was  so 
quietly  breathing  forth  my  name,  but  I  thought 
it  was.  the  voice  of  my  beloved  little  Willie.  I 
remained  in  a  silent  mood,  thinking  if  I  made 
the  least  noise  the  unknown  one  might  take  its 
departure,  and  I  be  left  alone.  Soon  I  heard  a 
gentle  tap  at  the  door ;  what  to  do  I  knew  not, 
but  between  hope  and  fear  I  arose  and  bade 
the  intruder  enter.  The  massive  golden  door 
sprung  open,  and  in  came,  one  after  another,  a 
convoy  of  little  angel  cherubs.  I  stood  bewil- 
dered, amazed  at  the  sight  of  the  sweet,  lovely 
little  creatures,  fit  only  for  mansions  of  light  in 
the  Paradise  of  God.  I  cast  my  eyes  around 
to  see  if,  perchance,  little  Willie  might  not 
have  strayed  from  Heaven's  high  port  to  the 
dreary  fields,  "  where  living  mortals  lie." 

Where  least  I  expected  to  find  him,  stood 
the  once  beautiful  boy,  now  transformed  into 
an  angel  of  light,  at  the  head  of  the  band. 
He  drew  near  to  my  side,  whispered  a  word  of 


140  THE    ANGEL   FORMS. 

comfort,  such  as  only  angels  could  bestow,  and 
told  me  not  to  mourn  his  absence,  for  I  soon 
should  come  and  dwell  with  him  in  his  new 
home,  which  he  said  was  called  Heaven,  and 
many  angels  were  there,  together  with  myriads 
of  redeemed  spirits  of  earth.  I,  with  wonder 
and  amazement,  stood  looking  on  the  cherubic 
legion,  when  a  voice  from  one  of  a  superior 
order  of  angels  was  heard,  bidding  them  hasten 
to  their  ambrosial  retreat,  ere  they  should  be- 
come- tainted  with  the  poisonous  atmosphere 
of  this  terrestrial  earth,  which  would  render  them 
totally  unfit  for  the  purities  of  Paradise.  Wil- 
lie whispered  a  word  to  me,  ere  he  left,  and 
said  that  he  would  come  again,  and  that  I 
must  be  ready  to  go  with  him  to  that  eternal 
world  of  joy. 

The  door  closed ;  the  light  vanished  from  my 
enraptured  vision,  and  I  was  left  alone.  I 
awoke,  and  oh,  it  was  all  a  dream ! 

My  Willie  was  truly  in  heaven,  a  beautiful 
angel  cherub,  but  I  was  here  amid  sin  and  sor- 
row, awaiting  the  voice  that  would  say  unto 
me,  "  Thou  hast  suffered  enough  in  the  dreary 
regions  of  earth ;  child,  come  home  ;  enjoy  thy 
rest." 


ANGELIC   FORMS.  141 

ANGELIC  FORMS. 

THERE  are  forms  that  are  ever  before  us, 
That  seem  kin  to  the  angels  above, 

That  cast  in  their  loveliness  o'er  us 
Strong  feelings  of  friendship  and  love. 

There  are  faces  that  cannot  conceal 
The  riches  the  heart  doth  possess, 
And  the  soul  will  its  beauty  reveal, 

By  those  acts  we  can  feebly  express. 

• 

And  these  virtues  are  seldom  combined, 
With  thy  beauty  of  form,  and  of  face, 

But  thy  heart,  and  thy  soul,  and  thy  mind, 
Lend  a  charm,  no  time  can  efface. 

Thy  step  may  grow  feeble  and  slow, 
And  thy  cheek  be  wasted  and  thin, 

But  no  changes  in  life  can  o'erthrow 
Those  virtues  concealed  within. 


142  SOFTLY,    PEACEFULLY. 


SOFTLY,  PEACEFULLY. 

SOFTLY,  peacefully- 
Lay  her  to  rest : 

Place  the  turf  lightly 
On  her  young  breast. 

Gently,  solemnly, 
Bend  o'er  the  bed, 

Where  you  have  pillowed 
Thus  early  her  head. 

Plant  a  young  willow 

Close  by  her  grave ; 
Let  its  long  branches 

Soothingly  wave. 
'Twine  a  sweet  rose-tree 

Over  the  tomb ; 
Sprinkle  fresh  buds  there, 

Beauty  and  bloom. 

Let  a  bright  fountain, 

Limpid  and  clear, 
Murmur  its  music, 

Smile  through  a  tear — 
Scatter  its  diamonds 

Where  the  loved  one  lies, 
Bright  and  starry, 

Like  angels'  eyes. 


THE    DEPARTED.  143 

Then  shall  the  bright  birds, 

On  golden-  wing, 
Lingering  over, 

Murmuring  sing ; 
Then  shall  the  soft  breeze 

Pensively  sigh, 
Bearing  rich  fragrance 

And  melody  by. 

Lay  the  sod  lightly 

Over  her  breast ; 
Calm  be  her  slumbers,' 

Peaceful  her  rest. 
Beautiful,  lovely, 

She  was  but  given, 
A  fair  bud  to  earth, 

To  blossom  in  heaven. 


THE  DEPARTED.  * 

How  sweetly  lingers 

Around  their  memory  soft  and  gentle  light, 
A  track  into  the  heavens  serenely  bright ; — 

TVith  rosy  fingers, 

The  summer  twilight  thus  around  us  weaves 
A  glory  tinting  deep  the  forest  leaves. 


144  THE   DEPARTED. 

Peacefully  sleeping, 

With  Jesus  hidden  are  the  pious  dead,  —       ^ 
For  them  no  agonizing  tears  be  shed ; 

Angels  are  keeping, 

In  fond  remembrance  of  their  faith  and  trust, 

\ 

A  silent  watch  where  lies  their  mortal  dust. 

"We  hail  the  departed,  —     . 
The  dwellers  on  yon  pure  and  peaceful  shore, 
Whose  faces  we  behold  on  earth  no  more ;  — 

When  we  are  faint-hearted, 
And  dim  within  us  burns  the  sacred  light, 
The  thought  of  them  shall  make  our  pathway  bright. 

No  fierce  blast  hovers 

O'er  all  that  bright  and  blessed  spirit-realm, 
No  wintry  clouds,  surcharged  with  storms  o'erwhelm, 

God's  presence  covers, 
With  a  mysterious  radiance  vale  and  hill, 
Where  the  departed  ones  are  living  still. 

There  is  no  dying 

For  them  who  as  the  angels  are  become, 
Within  the  brightness  of  that  heavenly  home ; 

No  grief  or  crying, 

For  all  the  former  things  have  passed  away, 
In  the  soft  air  of  an  eternal  day. 


DEPARTED     SPIRIT.  145 


DEPARTED  SPIRIT. 

Suggested  by  seeing  the  friends  of  the  pious  dead  weeping 
around  their  mortal  remains. 


I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 
And  quenched  the  vital  flame, 

When  round  my  bed,  with  sacred  tread, 
The  loved,  who  bear  my  name, 

Shall  come  and  stand  —  a  lonely  band  — 

0,  shed  no  tears  for  me. 

When  I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 

And  dust  to  dust  returns, 
Let  o'er  my  grave  no  cypress  wave  ; 

Nor  think  of  ashy  urns  — 
Sad  tokens  given  of  heart-strings  riven  — 
And  shed  no  tears  for  me. 

When  I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 

Let  songs  my  requien^  be  ; 
Plant  flowerets  gay  as  cheerful  May, 
Where  mourners  bend  the  knee, 
And  hearts  run  o'er  with  days  of  yore  ; 
But  shed  no  tears  for  me. 

10 


146  DEPARTED     SPIRIT. 

When  I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 
Let  faith  my  portion  scan,  — 

My  trials  o'er,  my  sins  no  more, 
Upon  my  foes  a  ban, 

A  sweet  relief  from  every  grief; 

Then  why  one  tear  for  me  ? 

When  I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 
In  heaven  no  tears  shall  fall, 

But  harps  shall  wake,  and  peans  break, 

And  loud  the  angelic  thrall — 
"A  sinner  saved!  death,  hell  is  braved !" 

Then  shed  no  tears  for  me. 

When  I  am  dead,  my  spirit  fled, 
To  God  the  boon  returned, 

If  life  has  been  a  scene  of  sin, 
And  in  my  heart  have  burned 

Lust,  pride  and  hate,  then  woes  await, 

And  weep,  O  weep,  o'er  me. 


A  RANSOMED    SPIKIT.  147 


A  RANSOMED  SPIRIT. 

HUSH  !  tread  softly  —  a  ransomed  spirit 

Is  leaving  its  earthly  clay ; 
And  the  angels  are  joyously  waiting  in  He'aren 

For  the  loved  one  that's  called  away. 

The  dew-drops  are  standing  upon  the  pale  brow, 

Death's  presence  is  felt  in  the  room ; 
The  eye-lids  are  drooping,  the  heart  grows  cold, 

And  we  know  that  she's  marked  for  the  tomb. 

We  shall  miss  the  kind  word  and  encouraging  glance ; 

The  house  will  look  cheerless  and  sad ; 
For  a  chair  will  be  vacant,  a  voice  be  missing, 

When  the  loved  of  our  circle  has  fled. 

But  we  know,  though  she's  lost  to  us  here  on  earth, 

She  will  have  a  bright  home  above ; 
And  will  join  in  the  angels'  holy  songs 

Of  joy,  and  praise,  and  love. 


14.8  LET   TJS   BE    PATIENT. 

LET  US  BE   PATIENT. 

LET  us  be  patient.    These  severe  afflictions 

Not  from  the  ground  arise, 
But  oftentimes  celestial  benedictions 

Assume  the  dark  disguise. 

And  though  at  times,  impetuous  with  emotion 

And  anguish  long  suppressed, 
The  swelling  heart  heaves,  moaning  like  the  ocean, 

That  cannot  be  at  rest. 

We  will  be  patient,  and  assuage  the  feeling 

We  cannot  wholly  stay ; 
By  silence  sanctifying,  not  concealing, 

The  grief  that  must  have  way. 

We  see  but  dimly  through  the  mists  and  vapors 

Amid  these  earthly  damps ; 
What  seem  to  us  like  dim  funereal  tapers, 

May  be  heaven's  distant  lamps. 

!,  There  is  no  death ;  what  seems  so  is  transition ; 

This  life  of  mortal  breath 
Is  but  a  suburb  of  the  life  elysian, 
Whose  portal  we  call  death. 

In  that  great  cloister's  stillness  and  seclusion, 

By  guardian  angels  led, 
Safe  from  temptation,  safe  from  sin's  pollution, 

He  lives  whom  we  call  dead. 


'SHE    SLEEPETH."  149 


"SHE  SLEEPETH." 

SHE  is  not  dead,  the  friend  we've  lov'd  so  long, 
Our  sister  is  not  dead  —  'tis  only  sleep 

That  binds  her  eye-lids  with  a  grasp  so  strong ; 
She  is  not  dead  —  then  wherefore  do  we  weep  ? 

Why  do  we  weep  1    Alas !  the  sleep  of  death 

Hath  closed  her  eye-lids  and  hath  marked  her 
brow ; 

"Will  not  our  Master  call  again  her  breath, 

And  cause  the  life-flood  thro'  her  veins  to  flow  ? 

Had  we  the  power  to  call  our  sister  down 

To  our  lone  fire-sides  from  her  Saviour's  care, 

Are  we  so  selfish  as  to  rob  his  crown 

Of  one  pure  blood- washed  gem  that  sparkles  there  ? 

We  will  not  call  her  from  the  Spirit-land, 
Much  as  we  miss  her  kindly-beaming  face, 

And  the  warm,  fervent  pressure  of  her  hand, 
Her  smile  so  full  of  tenderness  and  grace. 

We  will  not  call  her  back  —  our  world  at  best 
Is  filled  with  moanings  of  the  stricken  heart, 

And  in  the  mansions  of  our  Saviour  blest, 
Grief  never  enters  with  its  bitter  smart. 


150  TO    MY   MOTHER. 

Then  let  us  bow  submissive  to  His  will, 

Who  hath  the  power  to  give  and  take  away  — 

A  Father's  love  our  yearning  hearts  shall  fill, 
His  presence  change  our  night  of  tears  to  day. 


TO  MY  MOTHEE. 

OFT  I've  thought  of  thee,  my  mother, 

In  the  lonely  hours  of  night, 
While  the  winter  storms  were  sighing 

And  the  stars  had  hid  their  light ; 
Hoarse  the  sleet  came  coldly  beating 

On  the  window's  casement  low, 
Strong  and  vivid  thought  upwaking 

Of  the  homestead  by  the  knowe. 

Backward  to  the  Past  I  wandered,  — 

To  the  old  white-bearded  Past,  — • 
Then  he  bade  me  sit  beside  him, 

By  the  hand  he  held  me  fast ; 
And,  though  not  a  word  was  spoken,  — 

Not  a  whisper  uttered  low,  — 
Still  he  told  how  thou  didst  love  me 

In  the  homestead  by  the  knowe. 

Straight  he  pointed  to  the  bedside, 
And  I  saw  one  standing  there 


TO   A   BROTHER   IN   HEAVEN.  151 

Deeply  listening  to  my  verses, 

And  my  little  rhyming  prayer, 
Heard  I  then  her  gentle  blessing, 

In  a  voice  so  soft  and  low, 
That  I  knew  my  saint-like  mother 

In  the  homestead  by  the  knowe. 


TO  A  BROTHER  IN  HEAVEN. 

MY  brother  dear,  ah !  can  it  be 
Thou  art  no  more  distressed  ?  — 

That  Death  hath  kindly  set  thee  free, 
And  thou  art  now  at  rest ! 

E'en  so  my  fancy  painteth  thee, 
With  Him  who  reigns  above, 

Join'd  with  a  goodly  company, 
Whose  conduct  flows  from  love ! 

While  here,  thy  God  enabled  thee 

To  feel  thy  sins  forgiven ; 
And  tearfully  we  raise  our  thanks 

That  thou  art  blest  in  Heaven. 

No  more  thy  voice  salutes  the  ear 

In  tones  of  family  4ove : 
No  more  thy  songs  on  earth  we  hear, 

Although  thou  sing'st  above. 


152  THE   WAT  TO   HEAVEN. 

The  viol  and  the  flute  lie  still, 
As  though  thy  hands  were  dead ; 

Or  as  if  none  had  power  or  will 
To  use  them  in  thy  stead. 

Perhaps  if  God  will  thee  allow 
To  leave  the  throne  above, 

Thou'ltf  be  our  guardian  angel  now, 
Borne  on  the  wings  of  love. 


THE  WAY  TO  HEAVEN. 

THE  way  that  leads  from  earth  to  heaven 

Must  be  maintained  by  strife ; 
All  who  have  walked  therein  have  striven 

To  win  the  crown  of  life. 
It  is  a  way  with  ills  beset, 

Apparent  and  concealed ; 
These  must  in  strength  divine  be  met, 

And  boldly  brought  to  yield. 
But  he  who  blindly  seeks  his  ease, 

And  folds  his  hands  to  rest, 
Will  miss  the  prize  that  might  be  his, 

And  fail  of  being  blessed. 


THOUGHTS    OF   HEAVEN.  153 


THOUGHTS  OF  HEAVEN. 

THOUGHTS  of  Heaven !  they  come  when  low 
The  summer-eve's  breeze  doth  faintly  blow, 
When  the  mighty  sea  shines  clear,  unstirred 
By  the  wavering  tide,  or  the  dipping  bird ; 
They  come  in  the  rush  of  the  surging  storm, 
When  the  blackening  waves  rear  their  giant  form, 
When  o'er  the  dark  rock  curl  the  breakers  white, 
And  the  terrible  lightnings  rend  the  night  — 
When  the  noble  ship  hath  vainly  striven 
With  the  tempest's  might,  come  thoughts  of  Heaven. 

They  come  where  man  doth  not  intrude, 

In  the  untracked  forest's  solitude ; 

In  the  stillness  of  the  gray  rocks'  height, 

Whence  the  lonely  eagle  takes  his  flight ; 

On  peaks,  where  lie  the  eternal  snows ; 

In  the  sun-bright  isle,  'mid  its  rich  repose ; 

In  the  healthy  glen,  by  the  dark,  clear  lake ; 

Where  the  fair  swan  sails  from  her  silent  brake ; 

Where  Nature  reigns  in  her  deepest  rest, 

Pure  thoughts  of  Heaven  come  unrepressed. 

They  come  as  we  gaze  on  the  midnight  sky, 
When  the  star-gemmed  vault  looks  dark  and  high, 
And  the  soul,  on  the  wings  of  thought  sublime, 
Soars  from  the  dim  world  and  the  bounds  of  Time, 


154  THOUGHTS    OF   HEAVEN. 

Till  the  mental  eye  becomes  unsealed, 
And  the  mystery  of  being  in  light  revealed. 
They  rise  in  the  Gothic  chapel  dim, 
When  slowly  bursts  forth  the  holy  hymn, 
And  the  organ's  rich  tones  swell  full  and  high, 
Till  the  roof  peals  back  the  melody. 

Thoughts  of  Heaven !  from  his  joy  beguiled, 
They  come  to  the  bright-eyed,  artless  child ; 
To  the  man  of  age  in  his  dim  decay, 
Bringing  hope  his  youth  has  not  borne  away ; 
To  the  woe-smit  soul  in  its  dark  distress, 
As  flowers  spring  up  in  the  wilderness ; 
And  in  silent  chambers  of  the  dead 
Where  the  mourner  goes  with  soundless  tread ; 
For,  as  the  day-beams  freely  fall, 
Pure  thoughts  of  Heaven  are  sent  to  all. 


THE  INDIAN'S  DREAM  OP  HEAVEN.        155 


THE  INDIAN'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

THE  Indian  dreamed  of  a  land  far  away, 

Where  mountains  swell  proudly,  and  wild  streamlets 

play, 

Where  bright,  verdant  dells  glance  up  like  a  dream, 
And  mirror  the  form  of  the  wild  mountain  stream. 

He  dreamed  of  a  hunting  ground  far,  far  away, 
Where  deer  roam  in  freedom,  and  the  wild  chamois 

play; 

Where  nought  broke  the  hush  of  the  wild  forest  glade, 
Save  the  low,  plaintive  murmur  the  forest  stream 

made. 

A  beautiful  land  was  the  land  of  his  dream, 
With  a  flood  of  rich  glory,  more  bright  in  its  sheen 
Than  e'er  shed  its  light  on  mortal's  dim  vision, 
And  this  was  the  Indian's  dream  of  Elysium. 


156  FIKST   MOMENTS   IN  HEAVEN. 


FIRST  MOMENTS  IN  HEAVEN. 

WHERE  am  I?  gentle  strangers,  say, 

I  pray  you  speak  me  fair ; 
This  brightness !  is  it  earthly  day  ? 

This  fragrance !  mortal  air  ? 

My  couch  was  dark,  disturbed  my  rest, 

But  now  all  pain  is  o'er ; 
A  bitter  pang  my  heart  oppressed ; 

I  can  recall  no  more. 

I  left  the  mourners  round  my  bed, 
My  children,  too,  were  near, 

My  gentle  wife,  who  thought  me  dead, 
Will  joy  to  find  me  here. 

For  all  things  here  most  happy  seem, 

And  beautiful  to  view ; 
Is  it  a  dream  ?    Yet 't  is  no  dream 

That  I  am  happy  too. 

These  robes  of  white,  this  wand  of  palm, 
The  crown  that  decks  my  brow ; 
All,  —  all  are  real ;  no  false  charm, 
No  phantom  cheats  me  now. 


A    VISION    OP  HEAVEN.  157 


A  VISION  OF  HEAVEN. 

ONCE,  with  a  fearful,  trembling  hand, 

I  drew  aside  the  veil,  to  see 
The  glories  of  the  heavenly  land, 

The  brightness  of  eternity. 
But  soon  the  vision  overcame, 
And  terror  seized  my  quaking  frame. 

I  looked,  —  I  saw,  —  but  O !  the  light, 
The  bliss,  the  splendor  of  the  place, — 

The  shining  host,  who  all  unite 
In  songs  before  Jehovah's  face ! 

A  sudden  dimness  seized  my  eye ; 

For  who  could  look  on  Deity  ? 

One  sight  I  caught  of  heaven's  high  train, 
One  glimpse  of  my  eternal  home ; 

I  heard  one  sweet,  melodious  strain, 
And  all  my  powers  were  overcome. 

I  fell  aghast ;  my  senses  fled ; 

Nor  dared  I  raise  again  my  head. 

The  sight,  O !  ne'er  shall  I  forget ; 

The  song  still  vibrates  on  my  ear ; 
When  shall  I  reach  that  blest  estate  — 

When  in  yon  holy  throng  appear  ? 
Haste,  Jesus !  fetch  my  soul  away, 
To  dwell  with  thee  in  endless  day. 


158      THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  FLOWERS. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  FLOWERS. 

"  EACH  time  that  a  good  child  dies,  an  angel 
of  God  comes  down  to  earth,  takes  the  dead 
child  in  his  arms,  spreads  abroad  his  large,  snow- 
white  wings,  flies  forth  over  all  those  places 
which  the  child  had  loved,  and  plucks  a  whole 
handful  of  flowers,  which  he  bears  upward  with 
him.  to  the  throne  of  God,  that  they  may  bloom 
there  in  yet  greater  loveliness  than  they  had  ever 
bloomed  on  earth.  The  good  God  folds  all  these 
flowers  to  his  bosom,  but  upon  the  flower  which 
he  loveth  best  he  breathes  a  kiss,  and  then  a 
voice  is  given  to  it  and  it  can  join  in  the  song  of 
universal  blessedness." 

Lo,  all  this  did  an  angel  of  God  relate  whilst 
he  bore  a  little  child  to  heaven ;  and  the  child 
heard  as  if  in  a  dream,  and  the  angel  winged 
his  flight  over  those  spots  in  the  child's  home 
where  the  little  one  had  been  wont  to  play,  and 
they  passed  through  gardens  which  were  filled 
with  glorious  flowers. 

"  Which  of  all  these  shall  we  take  with  us, 
and  plant  in  heaven  ?  "  asked  the  angel. 

Now  there  stood  in  the  garden  a  slender  and 


THE   ANGEL   AND   THE   FLOWERS.  159 

beautiful  rose-tree;  but  a  wicked  hand  had 
broken  the  stem,  so  that  its  boughs  hung  around 
it  withered  though  laden  with  large,  half-unfold- 
ed buds. 

"  The  poor  rose-tree,"  said  the  child ;  "  let  us 
take  it  with  us,  that  it  may  bloom  above  in  the 
presence  of  God." 

And  the  angel  took  the  rose-tree,  and  kissed 
the  child,  because  of  the  words  it  had  spoken ; 
and  the  little  one  half  opened  its  eyes.  They 
then  plucked  some  of  the  gorgeous  flowers  that 
grew  in  the  garden,  but  they  also  gathered  the 
despised  butter-cup,  and  the  wild  hearts-ease. 

"  Now,  then,  we  have  flowers ! "  exclaimed  the 
child ;  and  the  angel  bowed  his  head  ;  but  he 
winged  not  yet  his  flight  towards  the  throne  of 
God.  It  was  night,  all  was  still ;  they  remained 
in  the  great  city,  they  hovered  over  one  of  the 
narrow  streets,  in  which  lay  heaps  of  straw, 
ashes,  and  rubbish,  for  it  was  flitting-day. 

Fragments  of  plate,  broken  mortar,  rags,  and 
old  hats,  lay  scattered  around,  all  which  bore  a 
very  uninviting  aspect. 

The  angel  pointed  out,  in  t}ie  midst  of  all 
this  confused  rubbish,  some  broken  fragments 
of  a  flower-pot,  and  a  clump  of  earth  which 


160      THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  FLOWERS. 

had  fallen  out  of  it,  and  was  only  held  together 
by  the  withered  roots  of  a  wild  flower,  that  had 
been  thrown  into  the  street  because  it  was  con- 
sidered utterly  worthless. 

"  We  will  take  this  with  us,"  said  the  angel ; 
"  and  I  will  tell  thee  why,  as  we  soar  upwards 
together  to  the  throne  of  God." 

So  they  resumed  their  flight,  and  the  angel 
thus  related  his  story :  — 

"  Down  in  that  narrow  street,  in  the  lowest 
cellar,  there  once  dwelt  a  poor,  sick  boy ;  from 
his  very  infancy,  he  was  almost  bed-ridden. 
On  his  best  days,  he  could  take  two  or  three 
turns  on  crutches  across  the  little  chamber,  and 
that  was  all  he  could  do.  On  a  few  days  in 
summer  the  beams  of  the  sun  used  to  penetrate 
for  half  an  hour  to  the  floor  of  the  cellar ;  and 
when  the  poor  boy  sat  there,  and  let  the  warm 
sun  shine  upon  him,  and  looked  at  the  bright 
red  blood  flowing  through  his  delicate  fingers, 
as  he  held  them  before  his  face,  then  it  was 
said  of  him,  '  He  has  been  out  to-day.'  A 
neighbor's  son  used  always  to  bring  him  one 
of  the  young  boughs  of  the  beech-tree,  when  it 
was  first  budding  into  life,  and  this  was  all  he 
knew  of  the  woods  in  their  beauteous  clothing 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  FLOWERS.      161 

of  spring  verdure.  Then  he  would  place  this 
bough  above  his  head,  and  dream  that  he  was  un- 
der the  beech-trees,  where  the  sun  was  shining, 
and  the  birds  were  singing.  On  one  spring 
day,  the  neighbor's  son  brought  him  some  wild 
flowers,  and  amongst  these  there  happened  to 
be  one  that  had  retained  its  root,  and  for  this 
reason  it  was  placed  in  a  flower-pot  and  placed 
upon  the  window-sill,  quite  close  to  the  bed. 
And  the  flower  was  planted  by  a  fortunate 
hand,  and  it  grew  and  sent  forth  new  shoots, 
and  bore  flowers  every  year ;  it  was  the  sick 
boy's  most  precious  flower-garden,  —  his  little 
treasure  on  earth,  —  he  watered  it,  and  cherish- 
ed it,  and  took  care  that  the  very  last  sunbeam 
which  glided  through  the  lowly  window,  should 
shine  upon  its  blossoms.  And  these  flowers 
were  interwoven  in  his  dreams,  —  for  him  they 
bloomed,  for  him  they  shed  around  their  fragrance 
and  rejoiced  the  eye  with  their  beauty ;  and  when 
the  Lord  called  him  hence,  he  turned,  even  in 
death,  towards  his  cherished  plant.  He  has  now 
been  a  year  with  God,  a  year  has  the  flower  stood 
forgotten  in  the  window,  and  now  it  is  withered, 
therefore  has  it  been  thrown  out  with  the  rub- 
bish into  the  street.  And  this  is  the  flower, 
11 


162      THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  FLOWERS. 

the  poor  withered  flower,  which  we  have  added 
to  our  nosegay,  for  this  flower  has  imparted 
more  joy  than  the  rarest  and  brightest  blossoms 
which  ever  bloomed  in  the  garden  of  a  queen." 

"But  how  comest  thou  to  know  all  this?" 
asked  the  child  whom  the  angel  was  bearing 
with  him  to  heaven. 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  the  angel,  "  for  I  was 
myself  the  little  sick  boy  who  went  upon 
crutches.  I  know  my  flower  well." 

And  now  the  child  altogether  unclosed  his 
eyes,  and  gazed  into  the  bright  glorious  counte- 
nance of  the  angel,  and  at  the  same  moment 
they  found  themselves  in  the  Paradise  of  God, 
where  joy  and  blessedness  forever  dwell. 

And  God  folded  the  dead  child  to  his  heart, 
and  he  received  wings  like  the  other  angel,  and 
flew  hand  in  hand  with  him.  And  all  the 
flowers  also  God  folded  to  his  heart,  but  upon 
the  poor  withered  wild-flower  he  breathed  a 
kiss,  and  a  voice  was  given  to  it,  and  it  sang 
together  with  all  the  angels  which  encircled  the 
throne  of  God ;  some  very  nigh  unto  his  pres- 
ence, others  encompassing  these  in  their  widen- 
ing circles,  until  they  reached  into  infinity  itself, 
but  all  alike  were  happy.  And  they  all  sang 


THE  ANGEL   AND   THE   FLOWERS.  163 

with  one  voice,  little  and  great;  the  good, 
blessed  child,  and  the  poor  wild  flower,  which 
had  lain  withered  and  cast  out  among  the 
sweepings,  and  under  the  rubbish  of  the  flit- 
ting-day,  in  the  midst  of  the  dark,  narrow 
street. 

O  COME,  pluck  sweet  flowers 
In  life's  earliest  hours, 

Entwine  a  bright  wreath  for  thy  brow ; 
That  their  fragrance  may  last 
When  thy  skies  are  o'ercast, 

Their  perfume  around  thy  path  throw. 

When  thy  young  eye  is  bright, 
When  thy  spirits  are  light, 

Go,  gather  the  sweet  flowers  of  love ; 
Let  meekness  and  truth 
Be  the  flowers  of  thy  youth, 

And  that  kindness  which  comes  from  above. 

Let  wisdom  direct 

Thy  young  hand  to  select 

Those  flowerets  which  never  decay ; 
Let  faith  and  hope  bind 
A  bouquet  for  the  mind, 

Fading  not  in  life's  wintery  day. 


164  TO   THE   FLOWEK3. 

I 

Let  the  pages  of  truth 
Fill  thy  memory,  in  youth, 

With  their  precepts  and  lessons  sublime ; 
With  a  peace-loving  mind, 
With  good  will  to  mankind, 

Those  jewels  untarnished  by  time. 


TO  THE  FLOWEKS. 

YOUR  voiceless  lips-,  0  flowers !  are  living  preachers ; 

Each  cup  a  pulpit,  and  each  leaf  a  book, 
Supplying  to  my  fancy  numerous  teachers 
From  loneliest  nook ! 

Floral  apostles !  that,  in  dewy  splendor, 

"  Weep  without  woe,  and  blush  without  a  crime," 
0,  may  I  deeply  learn,  and  ne'er  surrender, 
Your  lore  sublime ! 

"  Thou  wast  not,  Solomon,  in  all  thy  glory, 

Arrayed,"  the  lilies  cry,  "  in  robes  like  ours ! 
How  vain  your  grandeur !  Ah  how  transitory 
Are  human  flowers  ! " 

In  the  sweet-scented  pictures,  heavenly  Artist, 

With  which  thou  paintest  Nature's  wide-spread 

hall, 

What  a  delightful  lesson  thou  impartest 
Of  love  to  all! 


TO    THE   FLOWERS.  165 

Not    useless    are    ye,    flowers!     though    made    for 

pleasure, 

Blooming  o'er  field  and  wave  by  day  and  night ; 
From  every  source  your  sanction  bids  me  treasure 
Harmless  delight. 

Ephemeral  sages !  what  instructors  hoary 

For  such  a  world  of  thought  could  furnish  scope  ? 
Each  fading  calyx  a  memento  mori, 
Yet  fount  of  hope ! 

Posthumous  glories !  angel-like  collection ! 

Upraised  from  seed  or  bulb  interred  in  earth, 
Te  are  to  me  a  type  of  resurrection, 
And  second  birth. 

Were  I,  0  God !  in  churchless  lands  remaining, 

Far  from  all  voice  of  teachers  or  divines, 
My  soul  would  find,  in  flowers  of  thy  ordaining, 
Priests,  sermons,  shrines  I 


166  THE   FLOWERS. 

THE  FLOWERS. 

THOSE  sweet  summer  flowers, 

Blossoming  with  all  their  colors  gay, 

Sparkling  within  their  leafy  bowers, 
Oh,  bid  them  pass  ;uot  away ! 

I  would  the  meek,  lovely  train, 

So  beautiful  in  bloom, 
Might  ever  their  charms  retain 
And  yield  their  rich  perfume. 

Yes,  I  would  the  lovely  flowers 

Might  ever,  ever  live, 
And  to  our  hearts  instruction  bring, 

And  soothing  influence  give. 

'Dearly  do  I  love  the  summer  flowers 

And  all  their  leafy  bowers, 
Whispering  ever  of  the  world  above 

Where  spirits  pure  are  joined  in  love. 

But  sad  the  thought,  each  gift  is  only  lent, 

For  a  brief,  transient  day ; 
As,  by  a  gentle  zephyr's  breath 

They  are  quickly  borne  away. 

Each  lovely  thing  on  earth, 

Is  doomed  to  fade  from  its  birth, 
The  early  dew,  the  sun's  parting  ray, 
*  Are  fading  and  passing  away. 


THE   TRANSPLANTED   FLO  WEE.  167 

And  so  'tis  with  each  of  us ! 

All  that  live  must  soon  decay, 
Each  lovely  thing  to  which  we  cling, 

Must  ere  long  give  away. 

Then  let  us  seek  a  home  on  high, 

Where  flowers  never,  never  die ; 
Lay  up  our  Treasures  in  the  sky, 

The  Spirit's  blest  abode ; 


THE  TRANSPLANTED  FLOWER. 

T  WAS  evening ;  and  a  lovely  child 

Kneeling  in  prayer, 
Breathed  forth  her  spirit's  thankfulness 

For  holy  care. 
.  She  prayed  for  all ;  and  ere  she  closed, 

Asked  God  to  take 
Kind  watch  of  her  while  sleeping  there, 

Till  she  should  wake. 
'T  was  morning ;  and  that  little  one 

Was  summoned  hence ; 
God  sent  an  angel  in  the  night 

For  Innocence ;  — •    . 
And  seeing  that  pure  tender  bud, 

So  calm  and  still, 
He  gathered  it,  but  to  obey 

His  Maker's  will. 


168  A   FLOWER   IN   HEAVEN. 

A  FLOWER  IN  HEAVEN. 

On  the  Death  of  Ella  M.  Pinkham. 

OUR  Ella's  gone: 

She's  gone  from  friends,  from  parents  dear, 
Who've  watched  with  care  each  passing  year ; 
From  those  rejoicing  to  behold 
Treasures  of  mind  in  youth  unfold ; 
From  those  who  loved  her  fond  caress, 
From  those  she  lived  on  earth  to  bless, 
From  those  who  taught  her  "  lips  to  sing 
The  praises  of  our  heavenly  King ; " 
From  tender  friends  she's  quickly  torn, 
Their  loss  they  now  in  sadness  mourn ; 

From  all  she's  gone. 

Where  has  she  gone  ? 
The  angels  said,  who  heard  her  songs, 
"  She  more  to  heaven  than  earth  belongs ; " 
Then  came  disease  and  oped  the  door, 
And  from  our  arms  our  treasure  tore : 
But  near,  there  watched  an  angel  band, 
Who  took  our  Ella  by  the  hand, 
They  showed  her  little  feet  the  way 
To  realms  of  joy  in  endless  day. 
Now,  with  new  songs  high  heaven  rings, 
For  there  our  darling  Ella  sings ; 
She  lives  in  heaven. 


FLOTVERS.  169 


FLOWERS. 

ONE  morning,  as.  I  slowly  strayed 

Along  a  meadow  bright  and  green, 
Which  in  unconscious  beauty  laid 

Two  bright  and  sunny  hills  between ; 
I  saw  a  fairy  little  child  • 

Gathering  the  flowers  which  sweetly  smiled 
Bright  as  a  dream, 
Beside  a  stream, 
Which  lightly,  musically  played 
Along  that  meadow  bright  and  green. 

I  asked  the  child  why  thus  she  sought 
At  morn,  the  margin  of  that  stream, 

And  plucked  the  flowers  whose  forms  were  caught 
And  mirrored  in  its  sunny  gleam ; 

She  answered,  as  she  sweetly  smiled, 

"  I  pluck  these  flowers  blooming  wild, 
While  morning's  dew 
Perfects  each  hue, 

And  bear  them  home',  for  I  have  thought 

They  make  our  home  more  cheerful  seem." 


170      "ABE  THERE  FLOWERS  IN  HEAVEN?" 

Thus,  thought  I,  it  is  well  to  go 

And  gather  love's  and  friendship's  flowers, 
Along  that  stream  whose  waters  flow 

Through  frowning  wastes  and  lovelit  bowers, 
Towards  that  vast  unbounded  sea, 
The  distant,  dread  eternity ; 
And  when  at  last 
Life's  morn  is  past, 

These  flowers,  unfading,  still  may  glow 
And  cheer  the  gloom  of  sadder  hours. 


"ARE  THERE  FLOWERS  IN  HEAVEN?" 

LANGUID  and  dying  a  sweet  boy  lay 
Watching  the  gleam  of  each  crimson  ray 
That  tinted  the  clouds  with  a  radiant  crest, 
As  the  sun  sank  peacefully  down  to  rest ; 
And  the  stars  came  forth  with  their  silver  light, 
And  the  fair  day  slept  on  the  breast  of  night. 

Then  the  child  looked  up  with  a  peaceful  smile  — 
"Mother,"  he  whispered — she  wept  the  while  — 
"  Like  the  last  faint  gleam  of  the  lingering  day 
The  boy,  ere  the  morn,  will  have  passed  away." 
Then  a  tear-drop  gleamed  in  her  soft  blue  eye, 
For  she  knew  that  her  beautiful  boy  must  die. 


"ARE  THERE  FLOWERS  m  HEAVEN?"      171 

u  Flowers,  sweet  brother ! "  a  little  girl  cried  — 
And  lightly  she  sprang  to  the  sick  boy's  side ; 
"  Roses,  and  lilies,  and  violets  blue, 
Spangled  and  gemmed  with  the  evening  dew ! " 
And  the  eye  of  the  dying  one  brightened  with  plea- 
sure 
As  over  the  pillow  she 'scattered  her  treasure. 

For  each  dewy  dingle  the  sweet  boy  knew, 
Where  strawberries  nestled  and  wild  flowers  grew,  — 
He  lifted  the  buds  and  he  turned  them  o'er, 
For  he  knew  he  should  visit  their  haunts  no  more ; 
He  felt  from  them  all  he  must  soon  be  riven, 
And  he  mournfully  -sighed,  "  are  there  flowers  in 
Heaven?" 

"  There  are,  there  are,  my  beautiful  child ; 
Not  all  the  loveliness,  pure  and  wild, 
Of  the  blossoms  of  earth,  so  dewy  and  fair, 
^May  vie  with  a  leaf  of  the  flowers  that  are  there  ; 
Here,  they  are  fragile  and  wither  away, 
There,  they  are  fadeless  and  never  decay. 

Then  the  child's  face  lit  with  a  radiant  light,  * 

And   the  mother  watched  through  the  long,  long 

night ; 

Till  the  wild  bird  carolled  his  songs  of  joy, 
And  the  sun  looked  in  on  that  beautiful  boy ; 
But  an  endless  morn  to  the  child  was  given,  — 
He  had  gone  to  d"well  with  the  "  flowers  in  Heaven." 


172  SPUING  FLOWERS. 


SPEING  FLOWERS. 

THE  flowers !  the  lovely  flowers ! 

They  are  springing  forth  again ; 
And  opening  their  gentle  eyes 

In  forest  and  in  plain ! 
They  cluster  round  the  ancient  stems, 

And  ivied  roots  of  trees, 
Like  children  playing  gracefully 

About  a  father's  knees. 

The  flowers !  the  lovely  flowers ! 

Their  pure  and  radiant*  eyes 
Greet  us  where  e'er  we  turn  our  steps, 

Like  angels  from  the  skies ! 
They  say  that  nought  exists  on  earth, 

However  poor  and  small, 
Unseen  by  God ;  the  meanest  things, 

He  careth  for  them  all ! 

The  flowers !  the  lovely  flowers ! 

The  fairest  type  are  they 
Of  the  soul  springing  from  its  night 

To  sunshine  and  to  day ; 
For  though  they  lie  all  dead  and  cold, 

With  winter  snow  above, 
The  glorious  spring  doth  call  them  forth 

To  happiness  and  love. 


I   CAXNOT    STOOP   TO   FLOTVERS.  173 


I  CANNOT  STOOP  TO  FLOWERS. 

A  GKAT-HAIKED  man  to  me  declared, 
"  I  cannot  stoop  to  flowers ! " 

To  man  and  God  his  head  he  bared, 
To  paltry  pelf  he  cowers. 

To  meditate,  great  Hervey  sought 
The  gardens  and  the  bowers ; 

His  mind  the  healthy  dew-drops  caught, 
While  stooping  to  the  flowers. 

The  meanest  flower  of  earth  was  made 

By  that  great  God  of  ours ; 
He  everything  created  bade  — 

God  stooped  to  make  the  flowers. 

The  brightest  gems  of  flowering  fields 
Grown  brilliant  with  the  dew, 

Our  God  his  care  in  goodness  yields, 
And  stoops  to  kiss  them  too. 

"  I  cannot  stoop  so  low  as  flowers," 

I  heard  the  old  man  say ; 
His  heart  warmed  not  at  sunny  hours, 

Nor  the  garden  gems  of  May. 

Can  Heaven  propitious  be  to  him 

Whose  disposition  soars 
Amid  bewitching  fragrance  in 

The  garden  with  the  flowers  ? 


174  PRECEPTS   OF  FLOWEKS. 


PKECEPTS  OF  FLOWEKS. 

OH  !  lovely  flowers,  how  meet  ye  seem 

Man's  frailty  to  portray, 
Blooming  so  fair  in  morning's  beam, 

Passing  at  eve  away ! 

Teach  this,  and  though  but  brief  your  reign, 
Sweet  flowers,  ye  shall  not  live  in  vain. 

Go,  form  a  monitory  wreath 

For  Youth's  unthinking  brow ; 
Go,  and  to  busy  Manhood  breathe 

What  most  he  fears  to  know ; 
Go,  strew  the  path  where  Age  doth  tread, 
And  tell  him  of  the  silent  dead. 

But  whilst  to  thoughtless  ones  and  gay 

Ye  breathe  these  truths  severe, 
To  those  who  droop  in  pale  decay 

Have  ye  no  words  of  cheer  ? 
Oh,  yes  !•  ye  weave  a  double  spell, 
And  death  and  life  betoken  well. 

Go,  then,  where,  wrapt  in  fear  and  gloom, 

Fond  hearts  and  true  are  sighing, 
And  wreathe  with  emblematic  bloom 

The  pillow  of  the  dying ; 
And  softly  speak,  nor  speak  in  vain, 
Of  the  long  sleep  and  broken  chain. 


THE    USE   OF  FLOWERS.  175 

And  say,  that  He  who  from  the  dust 

Recalls  the  slumbering  flower, 
Will  surely  visit  those  who  trust 

His  mercy  and  his  power,  — 
Will  mark  where  sleeps  their  peaceful  clay. 
And  roll,  ere  long,  the  stone  away ! 


THE  USE  OF  FLOWERS. 

GOD  might  have  made  the  earth  bring  forth 

Enough  for  great  and  small, 
The  oak  tree  and  the  cedar  tree, 

Without  a  flower  at  all. 

He  might  have  made  enough,  enough 

For  every  want  of  ours  — 
For  luxury,  medicine,  and  toil, 

And  yet  have  made  no  flowers. 

Then,  wherefore,  wherefore  were  they  made, 

All  dyed  with  rainbow  light, 
All  fashioned  with  supremest  grace, 

Upspringing  day  and  night,  — 

Springing  in  valleys  green  and  low, 

And  on  the  mountain  high, 
And  in  the  silent  wilderness, 

Where  no  man  passes  by  ? 


176          •     •  BEIGHT    FLOWERS. 

Our  outward  life  requires  them  not ; 

Then  wherefore  had  they  birth? 
To  minister  delight  to  man, 

To  beautify  the  earth,  — 

To  comfort  man,  to  whisper  hope 
Whene'er  his  faith  is  dun ; 

For  whoso  careth  for  the  flowers 
Will  also  care  for  him. 


BKIGHT  FLOWEKS. 

BRIGHT  flowers,  bright  —  to  glad  our  sight- 
Ye  spread  the  meadows  green, 
And  naught  that's  fair 
Can  here  compare, 
That  we  have  ever  seen. 

Thou  violet  blue,  with  beauty's  hue 
Upon  thy  slender  stem, 

Within  thy  bed 

Thy  modest  head 
In  lowliness  doth  bend. 

Bright  flowers,  bright — ye  are  a  light 
To  us  from  birth  to  tomb ; 
A  something  rare 
In  beauty  fair 
That  only  dies  to  bloom. 


BRIGHT    PLOTTERS.  177 

Bright  roses, 'bright  —  the  red,  the  white, 
Twined  iii  Nature's  diadem, 
Ye  are  the  one 
That  those  hath  won 
To  be  her  brightest  gem. 

White  lily,  pure  —  may  those  endure, 
Nor  waste  thyself  in  vain ; 

A  lesson  give 

To  us  to  live 
Like  thee,  without  a  stain. 

May  all  we  do  be  pure  as  you  — 
On  earth  run  out  our  span, 

And  up  above 

"With  those  we  love, 
Be  planted  by  his  hand. 

Bright  daisies  sweet,  around  our  feet 
'  May  ye  forever  grow, 
And  o'er  us  spread, 
When  we  are  dead, 
Above  when  we  are  low. 

Bright  flowers  thus,  when  we  are  dust,     • 
May  ye  our  grave-sides  tend, 

And  long  may  shine, 
,    Forever  twine 
About  th'  abodes  of  men. 
12 


178  SUJrXIEK  FLOWERS. 

SUMMER  FLOWERS. 

STJJIMEE  flowers,  Summer  flowers, 
What  beauty  do  they  bear ! 
Their  gorgeous  hues, 
With  Heaven's  dews, 
Are  glistening  everywhere ; 
The  morning  air  with  perfume  filled, 
Distilled  from  out  their  bowers, 
Our  senses  fill  — 
Our  hearts  enthrill, 
With  the  breath  of  Summer  flowers. 

Summer  flowers,  Summer  flowers  — 
Are  scattered  o'er  the  plain ; 

And  the  hill-sides,  too, 

With  violets  blue, 
Are  blooming  once  again. 
And  all  a-down  the  streamlet's  banks, 
Where  crystal  waters  flow, 

The  lily  white, 

The  cowslip  bright, 
And  nodding  blue-bells  grow. 

Summer  flowers,  Summer  flowers, 
Will  soon  be  gone  again ;  — 
Will  pass  away, 
Till  another  day, 
From  valley,  hill  and  plain. 


HOW   LOVELY   ARE    THE    FLOWERS  179 

Such,  too,  is  life !     In  morning's  prime, 
When  youth  and  Hope  is  ours  ; 
"We  bloom  to-day, 
Then  pass  away 
As  passeth  Summer  flowers. 


HOW  LOVELY  ARE  THE  FLOWERS. 

How  lovely  are  the  flowers, 
That  in  the  valley  smile  I 
They  seem  like  forms  of  angels, 

Pure  and  free  from  guile. 

>? 
But  one  thing  mars  their  beauty, 

It  does  not  always  last : 
They  droop,  and  fade,  and  wither, 

Ere  the  summer's  past. 

And  1  am  like  that  flower, 
That  blooms  in  fragrant  May ; 

When  days  of  sickness  find  me, 
Then  I  fade  away. 

Then  let  me  seek  the  beauty, 

That  innocence  can  give ; 
For  when  this  life  is  over, 

That  will  ever  live. 


180         THE  TRUE  END  OF  BEING. 

THE  TRUE  END  OF  BEING. 
"NONE  OF  us  LIVETH  TO  HIMSELF." 

NOT  to  myself  I  live,  — 
The  whispering  sunbeam  seems  to  say, 
As  from  the  gladdening  fount  of  day 
It  swiftly  wings  its  cheerful  way : 

This  is  my  Being's  great  design  — 
No  selfish  wills  that  light  confine, 
But  on  the  starry  world  I  shine. 

Not  to  ourselves  we  live  — 
The  starry  hosts  in  concert  sing 
When  shadowy  eve  begins  to  spring ; 
To  others  then  we  freely  bring 

The  light  that  we  receive, 
And  blending  then  the  cheerful  ray, 
We  come  at  silent  close  of  day, 
To  watch  the  hours  of  night  away. 

»       Not  to  ourselves  we  live  — 
The  blooming  flowers  bring  sweet  reply, 
To  bless  the  earth  like  stars  more  nigh 
Than  those  that  cheer  the  distant  sky, 

Our  life  of  bloom  we  give ; 
To  others'  ears,  at  others'  feet 
We  breathe  to  shed  our  fragrance  sweet, 
That  smiles  of  heaven  and  earth  may  meet. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND   AND   ITS   ANGEL.    181 

"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years  ;  in  thought,  not  breath ; 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  the  dial. 
We  should  count  Time  by  heart  throbs  when  they 

beat 
For  God,  for  man,  for  duty.     He  most  lives 

Who  thinks  most,  feels  noblest,  acts  the  best ; 
Life  is  but  a  means  unto  an  end,  —  that  end, 
Beginning,  mean  and  end  to  all  things,  God. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  AND  ITS  ANGEL. 

IN  a  wild  and  turbulent  ocean,  there  was  an 
island  of  wonderful  beauty  and  repose.  The 
tempests  of  the  deep  folded  their  wings  on  its 
shore,  and,  if  the  waves  sometimes  beat  angrily 
there,  their  howls  were  softened  to  a  pleasant 
murmur,  in  the  calm,  pure  air. 

Clouds  flew  over  the  sky,  shadows  crept 
among  the  trees,  and  showers  descended  upon 
the  flowers ;  but  the  sun  soon  looked  out  from 
the  blossoms  more  freely  in  the  warm,  humid 
atmosphere.  Birds  of  many  tones  sang  in  the 
scented  pines,  and  the  summer  breezes  came 
and  seated  lovingly  around  the  sweet  scented* 
leaves,  uttering  low,  soft  sounds,  like  the  mel- 


182    THE    BEAUTIFUL   ISLAND   AND    ITS   ANGEL. 

ody  of  hymns  heard  in  dreams.'  Little  springs 
gushed  up  amongst  bright  green  moss,  beneath 
the  gnarled  roots  of  old  trees,  and,  with  silvery 
voices  went  murmuring  down  the  shaded  grassy 
lanes,  where  wreathing  evergreens  and  violets 
hide  from  the  eye ;  or,  they  glided  by  the  foot- 
path, and  talked  with  the  glistening  sundew, 
that  looks  up  to  heaven  through  tears,  —  like 
gentle  contrition,  that,  even  amidst  forgiveness, 
still  grieves. 

The  fragrant  trees,  the  birds,  the  dreamy 
flower,  the  lulling  streams,  the  quiet  ponds  that 
mirror  the  dark  overhanging  firs,  the  dim  reli- 
gious light  of  the  dense  woods,  where  the  sun- 
gleams  are  so  few  and  fitful  that  the  sarracenia 
peeps  timidly  from  the  moist  earth,  —  all  these 
had  a  spell  to  attract  thither  finely-developed 
spirits. 

But  an  angel  dwelt  there,  whose  soul  was  in 
harmony  with  all  this  beauty,  and  who  could 
interpret  its  mystic  language  to  those  who  stood 
midway  between  the  ideal  world  and  the  world 
of  form  and  sense. 

Spirits  yet  higher  had  instructed  her  in  the 
language  of  higher  spheres,  until  beauty  and 
melody  filled  all  her  days,  and  the  shadow  and 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   ISLAND   AND    ITS   ANGEL.     183 

the  sunbeam  alike  read  to  her  immortal  lessons. 
What  she  had  received  she  freely  imparted, 
and  her  lips,  like  those  of  the  prophets  of  old, 
spoke  glowing  words  to  kindle  the  soul,  and 
live  in  the  memory  forever.  The  deep  forest, 
with  its  flowers,  she  loved  with  a  peculiar  love ; 
and  little  graceful  vines,  hiding  beneath  pro- 
tecting shrubs,  were  sought  by  her,  and  ques- 
tioned of  their  secret  life ;  and  they  answered 
her  deep  interest,  and  seemed  endowed  with 
the  perception  of  her  angelic  nature. 

^Her  intense  affections  and  self-devotedness, 
that  were  forbidden  to  rest  on  individual  being,  «• .  A 
were  showered  in  blessings  on  all  who  came 
around  her. 

She  clothed  the  needy,  she  healed  the  sick, 
she  visited  the  mourner,  and  lived  to  God,  and 
in  view  of  her  immortal  life.  Her  presence 
was  delightful  to  all  who  had  sufficiently  emerg- 
ed from  sense  to  be  admitted  into  full  commu- 
nion with  her  spirit  They  entered  into  the 
Holy  of  Holies,  and  were  penetrated  and  filled 
with  the  unknown  power  that  taught  them 
through  her,  the  chosen  priestess  of  the  myste- 
rious shrine.  They  sought  her  companionship, 
and  loved  to  sit  with  her  in  the  green  dells, 


184   THE   BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND    AND    ITS   ANGEL. 

and  question  the  tiny  flower  and  .little  vine  of 
their  secret  sympathies  and  concealed  life. 
They  walked  in  the  depths  of  the  dark  woods, 
and  listened  to  the  harmonies  flowing  around, 
until  the  tempestuous  ocean  that  they  had  left 
sounded  only  a  deep,  grand  chord  in  the  diapa- 
son of  the  universe,  sublimely  chanting  also  its 
hymn  of  praise.  As  they  listened  to  her  gentle 
lessons,  the  wild  lamenting  of  its  waves  ceased, 
and  its  angry  howls  were  softened  and  blended 
with  the  melody  of  brook  and  bird  and  tree, 
until  peace  overflowed  the  soul,  —  a  peace  that 
remained  with  them  when  they  had  parted 
from  her,  and  committed  themselves  again  to 
the  turmoil  of  the  troubled  waters;  and  even 
then  those*  waters  would  be  jewelled,  in  the 
sunlight  of  heaven,  with  hues  never  before  seen. 
But  the  beautiful  island  and  its  angel  would 
haunt  each  memory,  until  again  the  bark  was 
oared  to  its  tranquil  shore,  and  again  they  sat 
at  the  feet  of  the  teacher,  and  gathered  music 
and  sunshine  for  the  rough  voyage  on  the  tur- 
bulent sea.  But  the  beautiful  island  suddenly 
was  darkened.  The  angel  had  fulfilled  her 
mission,  and  was  recalled  home.  Her  voice 
had  ceased  among  the  woods ;  her  eye  no  more 


THE   BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND   AND    ITS   ANGEL.     185 

looked  upon  the  flowers ;  yet  the  woods  were 
fragrant  as  ever,  and  the  roses  blossomed  un- 
conscious that  one  who  loved  them  had  gone 
forever. 

The. clear  ponds  still  mirrored  the  pines,  the 
brooklet  still  talked  with  the  sundew,  the  morn- 
ing birds  sang  in  the  dewy  boughs,  and  the 
thrush  sent  his  resonant  sweet  evening  hymn 
along  the  dusky  forest ;  and,  in  the  soft  Autumn 
sunshine,  the  graceful  little  squirrel,  that  never 
feared  her  presence,  leaped  and  chattered,  in 
his  joyous  life,  amongst  the  fading  leaves. 

The  angel  came  no  more.  N  She  had  learned 
the  lessons  that  she  was  imprisoned  in  the  clay 
to  learn,  she  had  taught  the  lessons  that  she 
was  detained  in  the  clay  to  teach,  and  she  had 
departed.  No  trace  of  the  ascending  spirit  was 
on  the  fair  blue  sky,  but  her  footsteps  might 
still  be  lingering  in  the  paths  that  she  trod ;  so 
they  who  loved  her  with  an  imperishable  love, 
who  sought  her  presence  with  an  instinctive 
attraction,  go  there  again  to  bathe  their  souls 
in  blessed  memories.  They  think  to  find  again, 
in  communion  with  familiar  things,  something 
of  the  spell  of  her  living  presence.  They  hope 
that  she  will  be  there,  unseen,  to  meet  them 


186    THE   BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND   AND    ITS   ANGEL. 

with  the  sympathy  of  other  days,  and  that  life 
will  again  flow  onward  in  the  reflected  beauty 
of  the  departed  angel.  «  ?. 

They  float  the  bark  to  its  shore.  They  tread 
again  the  green  aisles,  as  of  old.  That  shore 
is  fair  as  ever,  but  the  booming  billows  that 
they  have  left  still  boom  in  the  ear,  and  the 
forest  temple  thro\rs  down  from  its  leafy  dome 

no  serene  influence  on  their  souls.     The  brook 
i 

sings  a  dirge,  the  birds  utter  discords,  and  the 
flowers  smile  dimly  in  forest  and  field. 

Whence  this  dimness,  this  discord,  this  dirge 
of  the  brook,  and  the  wild  moaning  of  the  dis- 
tant wave  ?  All  is  unchanged  to  the  sight, 
all  is  fair  and  beautiful  in  this  island.  The 
light  and  charm  that  emanated  from  her  pre- 
sence has  gone  with  her  from  the  landscape. 

They  who  tread  the  shadowy  lanes  diffuse 
for  other  influence,  and  the  bright  things  of  the 
wild,  seem  ever  seeking  for  the  lost.  Strange 
merriment  echoes  through  the  secluded  dells, 
and  irreverent  hands  pluck  the  sweet,  simple 
flowers  that  she  loved,  and  toss  them  contemp- 
tuously away.  The  deep,  tangled  forest,  that 
was  her  temple  and  shrine,  is  desecrated  by  un- 
holy mirth,  and  all  her  pure  and  simple  tastes 


THE   BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND    AND    ITS    AXUEL.     187 

are  but  themes  of  ridicule.  Her  elegant  amuse- 
ments so  thoughtful,  so  quiet,  so  beneficial  to 
all  around,  are  despised,  and  the  noise  of  revel- 
ry is  loud  in  her  once  tranquil  home.  They 
cannot  understand  her  holy  thoughts  and  her 
gentle  deeds.  Her  meek  and  conscientious  life 
is  but  tameness  of  spirit,  and  all  its  high  and 
spiritual  beauty  is  but  a  strange  and  incompre- 
hensible delusion. 

Well  may  the  brook  sing  dirges,  and  the  bird 
discords !  Well  may  mournful  coloring  be  on 
the  flower,  and  wild  wailings  come  from  that 
ocean  surge,  and  the  whole  island  mourn  and 
complain!  The  beautiful  has  vanished  with 
the  angel.  The  spirit  that  infused  its^own  ele- 
vated life  into  all  things  has  borne  it  away 
with  her  presence,  and  they  who  Ifved  the 
island  have  ceased  to  love  and  visit  it.  The 
island  exists  no  more  for  them ! 

There  is  a  realm*  where  that  which  has  been 
never  dies,  and  where  the  beautiful  is  a  perpe- 
tuity and  a  blessing.  Evil  and  imperfection 
are  necessary  for  a  season,  but  the  high  and 
the  excellent  are  co-existent  with  eternity.  In 
that  lovely  and  mystic  realm  again  is  found 
the  Beautiful  Island  of  the  Past,  with  all  its 


188    THE   BEAUTIFUL    ISLAND    AND    ITS   ANGEL. 

beauty  undimmed.  There  .the  brooks  sing  in 
melody,  and  the  flowers  lift  their  bloom  un- 
blighted,  and  peace  flows  from  the  sunshine  of 
its  unclouded  skies.  There  is  light,  yet  not 
from  the  sun  that  beams  over  earthly  bowers. 
There  is  all  its  former  beauty,  and  no  change 
can  again  fall  upon  it,  no  leaf  or  flower  can 
fade  in  its  scented  fields.  And  there  the  angel 
walks  again  as  truly  and  visibly,  to  those  who 
loved  her,  as  in  the  green  lanes  and  umbrage- 
ous pathways  of  her  earthly  home.  And  they 
who  so  mourned  her  departure  go  to  this  mys- 
tic island,  and  wander  with  her,  as  of  old, 
through  leafy  arcades  and  by  soothing  streams, 
and  listen  to  her  gentle  teachings.  They  go 
when  life  is  dark,  when  the  winds  are  unloosed 
and  the  ya  is  wild  with  storms ;  when,  weary 
of  contention  with  the  billows,  and  faint  with 
struggle,  they  go  there,  and  the  tempest  is  lull- 
ed, and  the  waves  lie  down  to  slumber.  Again 
the  hymn  rings  through  the  fragrant  woods, 
and  the  soft  air  breathes  immortality,  and  its 
consoling  prophecies  of  the  future  destiny  of 
man. 

And  they  have  ceased  to  mourn  the  desecra- 
tion of  that  beautiful  island,  whose  forests  wave 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   ISLAND   AND   ITS   ANGEL.    189 

in  earthly  air,  as  they  have  ceased  to  visit  its 
mournful  shore ;  but  every  day  they  bless 
Heaven  that  the  beautiful  is  eternal,  that  the 
holy  island  still  remains  in  all  its  quiet  charms, 
and  still  preserves,  for  the  reverent  spirit,  its 
•  elevated  and  sanctifying  influence. 

Never  more  to  mortal  vision  the  angel  will 
reveal  herself;  never  more  the  spiritual  eye  will 
behold  the  beautiful  island  among  the  waters 
of  an  earthly  ocean.  But  in  that  mystic  realm 
where  the  good  and  the  beautiful  alone  have 
permanence,  the  island  and  its  angel  abide  for- 
ever. 

"  How  cheering  the  thought  that  the  spirits  of  bliss 
Will  bend  their  bright  wings  to  a  world  such  as  this ; 
Will  leave  the  sweet  joys  of  the  mansion  above, 
To  breathe  o'er  our  bosoms  some  message  of  love ! 

They  come,  on  the  wings  of  the  mornuig  they  come, 
Impatient  to  lead  some  poor  wanderer  home ; 
Some  pilgrim  to  snatch  from  his  stormy  abode, 
And  lay  him  to  rest  in  the  arms  of  liis  God." 


190  THE   BEAUTIFUL   LAND. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  LAND. 

THERE  is  a  land  immortal, 

The  beautiful  of  lands  ; 
Beside  the  ancient  portal, 

A  sentry  grimly  stands. 
He  orily  can  undo  it, 

And  open  wide  the  door  ; 
And  mortals  who  pass  through  it, 

Are  mortals  never  more. 

That  glorious  land  is  Heaven, 
And  Death  the  sentry  grim  ; 

The  Xiord  therefore  has  given 
The  opening  keys  to  him. 

And  ransomed  spirits,  sighing 
And  sorrowful  for  sin, 

Do  pass  the  gate  in  dying, 

And  freely  enter  in. 

****** 

Their  sighs  are  lost  in  singing, 

They  're  blessed  in  their  tears  ; 
Their  journey  heavenward  winging, 

They  leave  to  earth  their  fears. 
Death  like  an  angel  seemeth,  — 

"  "We  welcome  thee,"  they  cry  ; 
Their  face  with  glory  beameth  — 

'Tis  life  for  them  to  die. 


THI3    LAND    OF   THE    BLEST.  191 


THE  LAMD  OF    THE  BLEST. 

0,  WHEN  the  hours  of  life  are  past, 
And  death's  dark  shade  arrives  at  last, 
It  is  not  sleep,  it  is  not  rest ; 
'Tis  glory  opening  to  the  blest. 

Their  way  to  heaven  was  pure  from  sin, 
And  Christ  shall  there  receive  them  in  : 
There,  each  shall  wear  a  robe  of  light, 
,  Like  his,  divinely  fair  and  bright. 

There  parted  hearts  again  shall  meet, 
In  union  holy,  calm,  and  sweet, 
There,  grief  find  rest ;  and  never  more 
Shall  sorrow  call  them  to  deplore. 

There,  angels  will  unite  their  prayers 
With  spirits  bright  and  blest  as  theirs ; 
And  light  shall  glance  on  every  crown, 
From  suns  that  never  more  go  down. 

No  storms  shall  ride  the  troubled  air ; 
No  voice  of  passion  enter  there ; 
But  all  be  peaceful  as  the  sigh 
Of  evening  gales,  that  breathe,  and  die. 

For  there  the  God  of  mercy  sheds 
His  purest  influence  on  their  heads, 
And  gilds  the  spirits  round  the  throne 
With  glory  radiant  as  his  own. 


192         INVITATION    TO    GO    ON    PILGRIMAGE; 


INVITATION  TO  GO   ON  PILGKIMAGE. 

COME  let  us  go  to  heaven ;  —  the  way, 
Like  darkness,  opens  into  day, 
When,  from  the  turning  point  of  night 
Breaks  the  first  beam  of  morning  light. 

Come,  let -us  go  to  heaven  ;  —  our  guide 
Is  Christ  who  lived,  is  Christ  who  died, 
And  rose  again;  —  his  staff  and  rod, 
Through  life  and  death,  will  lead  to  God. 

Come  let  us  go  to  heaven; — forsake 
Sin,  death  and  hell ;  and  gladly  take 
His  easy  yoke,  his  welcome  load, 
And  brave  the  dangers  of  the  road. 

Come  let  us  go  to  heaven; — and  press 
On  through  the  howling  wilderness  ; 
Yet  fear  not,  little  flock !  though  foes, 
Without,  within,  your  course  oppose. 

Come  let  us  go  to  heaven  ;  —  no  power, 

Not  Satan  raging  to  devour, 

Nor  all  his  hosts  can  harm ;  for  ye, 

Through  Christ,  shall  more  than  conquerors  be. 


A   BETTER    HOME.  193 

Come  let  us  go  to  heaven  ;  —  and  meet, 
Once  and  forever,  at  his  feet ; 
Yea,  in  his  kingdom,  as  his  own, 
Sit  down  with  hin  upon  his  throne. 

Can  these  things  be  ;  —  they  are  —  are  sure 
To  all  who  to  the  end  endure ; 
While  Unbelief  cries,  Can  they  be  ? 
Come  let  us  go  to  heaven  and  see. 


A  BETTER  HOME. 

I  SIGH  for  a  better  home 

Than  this  poor  world  can  give, 
Where  troubles  never  come, 

Where  sorrow  cannot  live ; 
Here  grief,  and  toil,  and  pain, 

And  wild  distracting  care, 
And  many  an  earthly  bane 

Mixed  with  our  comforts  are. 

0  for  a  resting  place, 

Of  tranquil,  calm  repose, 
Far  from  this  dizzy  maze, 

This  weary  world  of  woes ; 
To  search  from  pole  to  pole, 

And  rest  you  cannot  find — 
Rest  for  the  weary  soul, 

The  troubled,  burdened  mind. 
13 


194  A  BETTER   HOME. 

I  shall  not  always  stay 

On  this  cold  dreary  shore, 
The  hope  of  a  better  day 

Bids  me  sigh  and  grieve  no  more/ 
It  bids  me  patiently  endure 

The  ills  of  this  short  life, 
And  then  I  shall  a  rest  secure 

From  its  turmoil  and  strife. 

It  points  me  to  a  land 

"Where  all  are  pure  and  blest — 
Where  the  wicked  cannot  stand, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest ; 
No  tears  are  there,  or  sighs  — 

'Tis  the  spirit's  blest  abode, 
A  mansion  in  the  skies, 

The  paradise  of  God. 


SPIRIT   LONGINGS.  195 


•SPIRIT  LONGINGS. 

I'M  weary  of  earth's  cares  and  sorrows  — 

I  dream  of  the  homes  of  the  blest ; 
In  vain  all  my  waiting  and  watching 

For  the  morn  of  eternity's  rest. 
I  struggle  and  strive,  till  my  spirit 

Seems  bursting  its»casement  of  clay; 
Impatient  to  enter  those  mansions 

Where  night  never  follows  the  day. 

The  pleasures  of  earth  are  not  painless ; 

Each  rose  I  may  pluck  has  its  thorn ; 
The  scenes  which  appear  so  enchanting 

All  vanish  like  dream-thoughts'  at  morn. 
Oh !  when  will  that  slumber,  so  dreamless, 

Steal  earnestly  over  my  soul, 
And  all  of  my  doubting  and  fearing, 

Give  place  to  a  view  of  the  goal  ? 

When  shall  I,  the  outer  form  leaving, 

On  spirit-wings  borne  through  the  air, 
No  longer  my  weaknesses  feeling, 

Grow  stronger  while  entering  there; 
Where  Jesus  his  mercy  displaying, 

Prepares  for  my  spirit  a  place, 
And  bids  me  be  ever  rejoicing, 

And  dwell  in  the  light  of  his  face. 


196  PARTING   WORDS. 


PARTING  WORDS.    . 

AND  must  I  now,  my  trusty  friend, 

Bid  thee  a  long  farewell  ? 
Thus,  all  Earth's  pleasures  have  an  end, 

How  soon  —  no  lip  can  tell. 

We  meet — we  love  —  we  promise  oft , 

Unending  happiness ; 
But  time  unseen,  soon  steals  away 

The  joys  we  did  possess ! 

Love  —  Friendship — ye  are  holy  ties ; 

And  though  so  frail  on  earth, 
Ye  shall  be  born  again,  and  rise 

Unto  a  heavenly  birth, 

Where  angel  lyres  breathe  songs  of  love, 

Which  time  nor  death  can  end ; 
0,  that  we  yet  may  meet  above, 
Each  lost  and  valued  friend. 

The  bygone  joys  of  other  hours 

Shall  oft  remembered  be ; 
And  I  will  send  my  spirit  forth, 

Far  o'er  the  swelling  sea. 

The  sails  are  spread  —  my  trusty  friend, 

Receive  my  warm  farewell ! 
Thus  all  earth's  pleasures  have  an  end, 

How  soon  —  what  lip  can  tell  ? 


RE-UNION   ABOVE.  197 


IF  yon  bright  stars  which  gem  the  night, 

Be  each  a  blissful  dwelling-sphere, 
"Where  kindred  spirit's  re-unite, 

Whom  death  hath  torn  asunder  here ; 
How  sweet  it  were  at  once  to  die, 

To  leave  the  blighted  orb  afar,  — 
Mixt  soul  and  soul,  to  cleave  the  sky, 

And  soar  away  from  star  to  star ! 

But  Oh !  how  dark,  how  drear  and  lone, 

"Would  seem  the  brightest  world  of  bliss, 
If,  wandering  through  each  radiant  one, 

We  fail  to  find  the  loved  of  this  ! 
If  there  no  more  the  ties  shall  twine, 

Which  death's  cold  hand  alone  could  sever, 
Ah,  then  those  stars  in  mocking  shine, 

More  hateful  as  they  shine  forever. 

It  cannot  be !  —  each  hope,  each  fear 

That  lights  the  eye  or  clouds  the  brow, 
Proclaims  there  is  a  happier  sphere 

Than  this  bleak  world  that  holds  us  now. 
There  is  a  voice  which  sorrow  hears,     ^ 

When  heaviest  weighs  life's  galling  chain, 
'Tis  heaven  that  whispers,  "  Dry  your  tears," 

The  pure  in  heart  shall  meet  again. 


198  OUR    INFANT   ANGEL. 


OUR  INFANT  ANGEL. 

I  WAS  but  a  childish  mother.  I  had  not  forgot- 
ten the  merry  laugh  of  my  girlhood,  when  they 
laid  my  baby  on  my  breast,  and  looked  upon  him 
more  as  a  curious  plaything  than  as  a  human 
soul  given  into  my  hands  for 'its  earthly  train- 
ing. But  my  husband  —  ah,  he  was  grave  and 
wise  enough  for  both — mother  and  child  alike! 

My  husband  was  many  years  older  than  my- 
self. He  had  known  many  a  joy  and  sorrow 
long  before  I  was  born  —  and  on  the  very  day 
when  .my  nurse  was  holding  me  (a  helpless, 
laughing,  crowing  baby)  out  to  pick  the  daisies 
for  my  birthday  garland,  he  was  bending  tear- 
fully over  the  grave  of  one  who  had  made'  his 
home  happy  for  years  —  the  wife  of  his  youth 
and  the  mother  of  his  children !  Strange !  that 
I,  who  had  no  knowledge  of  sorrow,  was  yet  to 
dispel  his ;  that  he,  who  had  never  gazed  upon 
that  child's  face  of  mine,  was  one  day  to  take 
its  owner  to  his  heart,  as  the  light  and  joy  of 
his  declining  years. 

Our  home  was  a  little  paradise,  close  beside 
the  sea,  a  small,  low-roofed,  brown  cottage, 


OUR    INFANT    ANGEL.  199 

with  a  rustic  porch  and  latticed  windows  over- 
grown with  climbing  roses.  The  low  murmur 
of  the  ocean  soothed  me  into  a  happy  sleep 
each  night  —  the  sweet  song  of  the  swallows 
waked  me  into  a  happy  day  each  morning. 
And  here,  in  the  pleasant  summer  time,  my 
blue-eyed  boy  was  born,  and  my  cup  of  joy 
was  full  to  running  over. 

My  boy,  like  all  mothers'  boys,  was  beauti- 
ful. And  yet  his  loveliness  made  my  heart 
ache.  So  frail,  so  fair!-  His  colorless  waxen 
cheek,  his  slender  form,  and  large  and  melan- 
choly blue  eyes,  filled  me  with  a  thousand 
fears.  How  often  have  I  bent  above  him  as  he 
laid  upon  my  lap,  .and  prayed  with  all  a  moth- 
er's earnestness  that  his  life  might  be  spared. 
It  was  a  foolish  prayer,  an  unwise  one,  but 
then  I  could  not  see  it ! 

My  very  life  seemed  wrapped  up  in  that  of 
my  babe.  With  him  by  me  every  day,  I  could 
not  see  him  fading,  and  the  moaning  sea  could 
tell  no  tales.  But  now  and  then  a  shadow 
came  over  his  father's  brow  as  he  watched  us, 
that  not  even  my  kisses  could  quite  drive 
away.  I  thought  him  growing  stern  and  cold  ; 
but  O,  I  wronged  him !  Never  had  he  loved 
us  so  tenderly  before! 


200  OUR    INFANT    ANGEL. 

Weeks  passed  on.  My  baby's  eyes  looked 
intelligently  into  mine,  and  the  little  rosy  lips 
smiled  whenever  I  carne  near.  But  still  those 
little  lisping  utterances  that  thrill  the  heart 
so  deeply  were  silent,  and  all  my  loving  lessons 
fell  on  an  unheeding  ear. 

The  shadow  on  Arthur's  face  grew  deeper  as 
he  watched  my  unceasing  efforts.  At  last  the 
blow  came.  I  had^  been  sitting  in  the  door- 
way with  little  Earnest  in  my  arms,  trying 
to  teach  him  to  say  "papa."  His  large  blue 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  me  with  a  wistful  expres- 
sion, but  still  the  lips  were  mute,  and  vexed 
and  disappointed  I  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and 
laid  him  back  in  his  little  cradle.  Something 
in  the  look  my  husband  gave  startled  me.  I 
went  beside  him,  and  putting  my  arms  around 
his  neck  — 

«  What  is  it,  Arthur  ?"  1  cried. 

"  God  help  you  to  bear  it,  Mary ! "  he  an- 
swered, solemnly.  "  Our  child  is  dumb ! " 

DUMB  !  Could  it  be  possible  ?  What  had  I 
done  that  so  deep  a  sorrow  should  be  sent  to 
chasten  me  ?  Other  mothers  might  hear  their 
children's  voices  calling  them,  but  mine  would 
be  forever  silent!  Forever!  it  was  so  long  a 


OUR    INFANT   ANGEL.  201 

word !  Had  it  been  for  weeks,  or  months,  or 
even  years,  I  would  have  borne  it ;  but  to  know 
that  it  could  never  be — that  through  childhood, 
youth  and  manhood,  he  could  never  speak  my 
name  —  O,  it  was  too  much  to  bear ! 

Autumn  and  winter  passed  aWay,  and  my 
baby  and  I  threw  daisies  at  each  other  on  the 
lawn  before  the  cottage,  while  Arthur  looked 
on,  smilingly,  from  his  study  window.  I  had 
not  grown  reconciled  to  the  great  misfortune, 
only  accustomed  to  it,  and  the  mute  kisses  of 
my  child  were  almost  as  dear  to  me  as  his 
spoken  words  could  have  been. 

It  \vas  a  strange  task  to  teach  that  soul  how 
to  expand  its  wings.  It  \yas  strange  to  teach 
the  child  his  little  evening  prayer  by  signs,  and 
yet  as  he  clasped  his  small  hands,  and  raised 
his  sweet  blue  eyes  to  heaven,  I  often  wonder- 
ed if  any  labored  supplication  could  have  gone 
more  quickly  to  the  Throne  of  Grace.  It  was 
strange  to  see  him  sit  silently  above  his  play- 
things, to  hear  no  sound  from  him  except  the 
plaintive,  half-stifled  cry  he  uttered  when  in 
pain,  to  feel  those  delicate  hands  clasping  mine 
when  something  new  had  puzzled  him,  to 
the  wistful,  observant  look  with  which  he 


202  OUK    INFANT   ANGEL. 

regarded    every   one    who    conversed    around 
him.  • '  i 

We  make  to  ourselves  idols  out  of  clay,  and 
they  are  taken  from  us.  I  needed  the  one  les- 
son more.  My  little  boy  faded  slowly  beneath 
my  eyes,  as  th'e  summer  came  on.  It  was  not 
so  much  with  him  a  painful  sickness,  as  the 
gradual  wasting  away  of  the  springs  of  life. 
The  mission  he  had  been  sent  to  fulfil  was  ac- 
complished. 

Many  days  before  he  was  taken,  I  knew  he 
must  go.  I  was  with  him  day  and  night.  I 
sang  him  to  sleep,  and  wet  the  still  golden 
head  with  tears  when  he  was  slumbering  quiet- 
ly. Day  by  day  I  gathered  up  my  strength  for 
the  parting  which  I  knew  must  come,  and  day 
by  day  my  heart  sank  within  me,  and  the  blood 
forsook  my  cheek  if  the  slightest  change  took 
place. 

We  sat  by  the  bedside  of  our  boy ;  the  little 
languid  head  was  resting  on  my  breast,  and 
the  tiny,  transparent  hands  lay  like  two  lilies 
in  the  broad  palm  of  Arthur.  I  sang,  in  a 
hushed  voice,  the  songs  he  loved  the  best,  and 
the  setting  sun  sank  slowly  behind  the  sea. 

Cool  breezes,  the  splash  of  oars  and  the  rude 


OTJR   INFANT   ANGEL.  203 

* 
i 

song  of  sailors  down  the  bay,  came  floating  in 
upon  us.  My  darling  boy  lay  and  listened.  I 
could  not  see  that  his  breathing  grew  fainter 
and  fainter,  and  that  the  lids  of  the  blue  eyes 
were  drooping  slowly  towards  each  other.  At 
last  they  closed,  and  thinking  he  slept,  I  laid 
my  weary  head  upon  my  husband's  breast  and 
tried  to  sleep  also.  A  strange  drowsiness  which 
was  not  slumber  crept  over  me.  I  started  from 
it  suddenly,  at  last,  with  an  instinctive  feeling 
that  all  was  not  well.  Tears  fell  upon  my 
cheeks  as  I  lifted  my  head.  They  fell  from 
the  eyes  of  Arthur,  who  sat  and  thought  while 
we  were  still. 

I  bent  above  my  boy.  The  little  cheek  I 
kissed  seemed  growing  cold,  and  with  suspended 
breath  I  listened  to  hear  the  beating  of  his  heart. 
He  moved  slightly  as  I  called  his  name,  and 
then  looked  up  in  my  face  with  a  gentle  smile. 

It  faded  soon,  and  he  seemed  to  be  strug- 
gling with  some  terrible  pain.  His  lips  were 
drawn  back,  his  eyes  upturned,  and  his  hands 
clenched.  I  could,  not  bear  to  look  at  him.  I 
turned  away  and  groaned  in  agony. 

«  See  —  it  is  over  now ! "  said  Arthur,  as  he 
put  his  arm  around  my  waist,  and  held  me 
firmly  to  his  neart. 


204  OUR   INFANT   ANGEL. 

I  looked.  My  darling  raised  his  feeble  arms. 
and  as  I  bent  my  head,  they  fell  heavily  around 
my  neck ;  his  pale  lips  met  mine  in  a  last  kiss. 
A  sudden  trembling  seized  him.  His  eyes  lit 
up  with  a  happy  light,  his  cheek  flushed,  his 
half-opened  lips  seemed  about  to  speak  for  the 
first  time.  Did  I  hear,  or  dream  I  heard,  the 
one  word  I  had  vainly  tried  to  teach  him? 
"Mother!" 

I  could  not  tell.  For  the  next  moment  the 
rosy  flush  faded,  the  little  breast  heaved  with 
one?  short  sigh,  and  my  boy  had  left  us. 

Was  that  little  life  in  vain  ?  Was  no  lesson 
taught,  no  lesson  learned,  in  that  brief  year  of 
companionship  with  an  angel?  O  yes!  A 
lesson  which  the  mother's  heart  can  never  for- 
get, while  it  beats  with  the  love  it  has  felt  for 

the  lost.     "  Dearer  is  God  for  his  sweet  sake  " 
i  f 

—  dearer  to  me,  because  he  loved  beauty  so. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  my  little  boy 
fell  asleep.  Other  children '  play  around  the 
door  of  my  cottage,  and  kneel  each  night  at 
my  knee,  to  say  the  prayers  he  only  looked ; 
another  Arthur,  with  bright,  dark  eyes,  and 
golden  hair,  goes  s'.nging  through  the  house, 
but  still  my  heart  is  most  with  him.  My  chil- 


OUR   INFANT   ANGEL.  205 

dren  stand  beside  that  grave  and  listen  with 
serious  faces,  when  I  tell  them  of  the  little 
brother  who  died  before  they  were  born,  and 
then  steal  away  silently  and  leave  me  there 
beside  him. 

I  have  grown  old  and  care-worn  ;  the  cheek 
he  kissed  is  thin  and  faded,  and  the  sunny  hair 
with  which  he  used  to  play,  is  streaked  with 
silver.  But  my  child  will  know  me  when  I 
meet  him,  and  1  shall  hold  him  to  my  heart  the 
same  as  when  he  left  me,  an  infant  angel  — 
freed  from  every  taint  of  earth. 

No  barrier  then  between  us  —  no  weak,  im- 
perfect utterance,  or  look  of  pain ;  for  in  heaven 
my  child  will  speak,  and  the  first  word  1  shall 
hear  him  utter  there,  will  be  the  word  that  lin- 
gered on /his  lips  when  he  was  dying.  He  will 
call  me  "  Mother  "  there  as  here.  Else  I  could 
never  have  given  him  up  through  all  these 
weary  years,  and  fed  my  heart  upon  the  hope 
of  hearing  that  half-uttered  word  breathed  free- 
ly when  I  die. 

Rests  a  child,  a  gentle  spirit, 

Where  these  flowers  slowly  wave ; 

One  that  will  a  crown  inherit, 
When  it  rises  from  its  grave. 


206   LAST   WOKDS    OP   A   WIFE   TO   HER   HUSBAND. 

t 


LAST  WOKDS  OF  A  WIFE  TO  HER  HUSBAND. 

I  AM  passing  through  the  waters,  but  a  blessed  shore 

appears,  — 
,  Kneel  beside  me,  husband  dearest,  let  me  kiss  away 

thy  tears : 
Wrestle  with  thy  grief  as  Jacob  strove  from  midnight 

until  day; 
It  may  leave  an  Angel's  blessing  when  it  vanishes 

away. 
Lay  the  babe  upon  my  bosom,  'tis  not  long  she  can 

be  there,  — 
See  how  to  my  heart  she  nestles  —  'tis  the  pearl  I 

love  to  wear. 
If,  in  after  years,  beside  thee  sits  another  in  my 

chair, 
Though  her  voice  be  sweeter  music,  and  her  face 

than  mine  more  fair ;  — 
If  a  cherub  call  thee  father,  far  more  beautiful  than 

this, 
Love  thy  first-born,  oh,  my  husband,  turn  not  from 

the  motherless. 
Tell  her  sometimes  of  her  mother — you  may  call  her 

Anna  Jane  — 
Shield  her  from  the  winds  of  sorrow — if  she  errs,  oh, 

gently  blame ; 


LAST   WORDS    OF   A   WIFE   TO   HER   HUSB  A.ND.    207 

Lead  her  sometimes  where  I'm  sleeping ;  I  will  an- 
swer if  she  calls, 
And  my  breath  will  stir  her  ringlets,  when  my  voice 

in  blessing  falls ; 
And  her  soft  blue  eye  will  brighten  with  a  wonder 

whence  it  came, 
In  her  heart,  when  years  pass  o'er  her,  she  will  find 

her  mother's  name. 
I  will  be  her  right  hand  angel,  sealing  up  the  good 

for  Heaven, 
Striving  that  the  midnight  watches  find  no  misdeed 

unforgiven. 
You  will  not  forget  me,  dearest,  when  I'm  sleeping 

'neath  the  sod ; 
Oh,  love  the  babe  upon  my  bosom  as  I  love  thee  next 

to  God. 


208  MY   BOY  ! 


MY  BOY! 

I  KNOW  his  face  is  hid 

Under  the  coffin  lid ; 
Closed  are  his  eyes ;  cold  is  his  forehead  fair ; 

My  hand  that  marble  felt, 

O'er  it  in  prayer  I  knelt ; 
Yet  my  heart  whispers  that  —  he  is  not  there. 

Not  there  ?  —  "Where,  then,  is  he  ? 

The  form  I  used  to  see 
Was  but  the  raiment  that  he  used  to  wear. 

The  grave  that  now  doth  press 

Upon  that  cast-off  dress, 
Is  but  his  wardrobe  locked ; — he  is  not  there ! 

He  lives !  —  In  all  the  past 

He  lives  ;  nor  to  the  last, 
Of  seeing  him  again  will  I  despair ; 

In  dreams  I  see  him  now, 

And  on  his  angel  brow 
I  see  it  written,  "  Thou  shalt  see  him  there  !  " 

Yes,  we  all  live  to  God ! 

Father,  thy  chastening  rod 
So  help  us,  thine  afflicted  ones,  to  bear, 

That  in  the  spirit  land, 

Meeting  at  thy  right  hand, 
'Twill  be  our  heaven  to  find  that  —  he  is  there  I 


RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN.       209 


SHALL  WE  RECOGNIZE  OUR  FRIENDS   IN 
HEAVEN? 

A  BELIEF  of  this  kind,  though  deep  and 
general,  does  not,  however,  prove  its  own  cor- 
rectness; it  will  have  little  weight  with  those 
who  have  a  more  sure  word  of  prophecy;  yet 
must  we  regard  it  as  somewhat  significant, 
and  closely  related  to  an  essential  element  of 
this  human  soul,  indicating  a  want  in  the  gene- 
ral heart  thus  plainly  expressed.  We  would 
give  to  it,  in  connection  with  this  subject,  some 
such  a  place  as  we  assign  to  the  general  belief 
of  immortality  in  an  argument  to  establish  that 
belief. . 

Taking  this  side  glance,  as  we  approach  the 
inspired  volume,  we  naturally,  inquire,  why 
should  it  not  be  so  ?  What  reasonable  objec- 
tion can  be  urged  against  it?  So  far  from 
there  being  jus,t  ground  to  oppose  it,  does  not 
every  enlightened  and  Christian  mind  long  that 
it  should  be  true?  What  would  society  on 
earth  be  without  mutual  recognition  ?  And  is 
heaven  a  less  social  place  ?  Is  the  demand  for 
this  less  imperative  there?  Will  our  beloved 
14 


210       RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN. 

• 

Christian  friend  be  less  himself  after  death  than 
now,  or  lose  those  characteristics  which  attach 
us  to  him  here  ? 

We  open  the  Bible.  We  peruse  it  carefully. 
From  first  to  last  we  find  nothing  that  con- 
flicts with  this  belief.  If  this  were  all  we  could 
say,  even  that  would  be  in  its  favor.  Here  is 
our  first  proof,  and  though  negative,  yet  it  is 
valid.  But  let  us  examine  what  the  Scriptures 
teach  respecting  the  abode  and  condition  of 
the  glorified.  In  respect  to  their  condition,  we 
find  that  it  is  eminently  social.  They  are  re- 
presented as  citizens,  intermingling  freely  ;  but 
there  is  no  intimation  that  previous  to  their 
meeting  there  they  were  all  strangers.  They 
form  a  family,  whose  members  were  once  on 
earth  ;  and  can  their  quickened  recollection  be 
oblivious  of  former  acquaintance  ?  Do  they 
know  less  than  they  did  here  ?  Does  not  La- 
zarus know  in  whose  bosom  he  is  ?  Ah1  the 
conceptions  of  heaven  suggested  by  the  Bible 
favor  the  idea  of  future  recognition. 

This  is  our  second  step  in  the  examination 
of  divine  testimony.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  a 
scrutiny  of  particular  passages.  The  New 
Testament  is  before  us.  Our  Lord  speaks  :  — 


RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN.        211 

"  And  I  say  unto  you,  that  many  shall  come 
from  the  east  and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with 
Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  Will  they  meet  at  that  banquet 
without  recognition  ?  Again :  —  "  Ye  are  they 
which  have  continued  with  me  in  my  tempta- 
tions ;  and  I  appoint  unto  you  a  kingdom,  as 
my  Father  hath  appointed  unto  me,  that  ye 
may  eat  and  drink  at  my  table,  in  my  king- 
dom, ajid  sit  on  thrones,  judging  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel."  Can  that  be  fulfilled  while 
the  parties  are  strangers  to  each  other  ?  And 
when,  at  the  last  judgment,  he  shall  speak  of 
things  done  to  "  these  my  brethren,"  will  they 
not  recognize  those  who  have  done  them  either 
an  "injury  or  a  kindness  ?  If,  on  the  mount  of 
transfiguration,  the  disciples  knew  Moses  and 
Elfes,  who  had  already  been  a  thousand  years 
in  glory,  will  not  all  disciples  know  them, 
and  know  one  another,  on  the  Mount  Zion 
above  ? 

We  open  letters  from  the  great  Apostles, 
and  read  :  —  "  Knowing  that  He  which  raised 
up  the  Lord  Jesus  shall  raise  up  us  also,  by 
Jesus,  and  shall  present  us  with  you;"  and, 
again :  1  Thess.  2 :  19,  "  For  what  is  our  hope, 


212       RECOGNITION    OF  FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN. 

or  joy,  or  crown  of  rejoicing  ?  Are  not  even 
ye  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at 
his  coming  ?  "  We  conclude  with  confidence 
that  Paul  expected  to  recognize  those  Thessa- 
lonian  converts  amid  the  throng  before  the 
throne.  Turning  back  to  the  Old  Testament, 
and  hearing  patriarchs  speak  of  "  being  gather- 
ed to  their  fathers,"  and  David  of  "  going  to 
the  child,"  we  infer  that  they  expected  to  know 
their  kindred  in  the  Better  Land.  In  the  four- 
teenth of  Isaiah  we  read :  —  "  Hell  from  be- 
neath is  moved  for  thee  to  meet  thee  .at  thy 
coming ;  it  stirreth  up  the  dead  for  thee,  even 
all  the  chief  ones  of  the  earth ;  it  hath  raised 
from  their  thrones  all  the  kings  of  the  nations. 
All  they  shall  speak  and  say  unto  thee,  art 
thou  also  become  weak  as  we  ?  ,  Art  thou  be- 
come like  unto  us  ?  Thy  pomp  is  brought 
down  to  the  grave,  and  the  noise  of  thy  viols ; 
the  worm  is  spread  under  thee,  and  the  worms 
cover  thee.  How  art  thou  fallen  from  Heaven, 
O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning !  how  art  thou 
cut  down  to  the  ground,  which  didst  weaken 
the  nations!"  If  that  be  true  among  the  lost, 
shall  it  not  be  also  among  the  blessed?  If 
Dives  in  torment  recognizes  Lazarus  afar  off  in 


RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN.       213 

Abraham's  bosom,  shall  not  Lazarus  recognize 
those  who  are  near  and  round  about  him  ? 

Neither  the  Old  Testament  nor  the  New 
goes  into  minute  details  respecting  the  heaven- 
ly state,  or  teaches  future  recognition,  positive- 
ly and  directly ;  but,  in  view  of  the  general  ex- 
pectation of  the  human  mind,  the  absence  of 
adverse  testimony,  and  these  decided  though 
incidental  teachings,  we  may  be  sure  that 
Christian  friends  will  know  one  another  in  the 
fnture  world. 

In  the  preliminary  part  of  the  chapter,  we 
glanced  at  the  character  of  belief  on  this  sub- 
ject in  lands  not  illumined  by  the  gospel.  Let 
us  now  glance  at  the  belief  of  those  who  have 
had  the  holy  Scriptures.  Cyprian,  in  the  third 
century,  responds  thus :  —  "  Who,  finding  him- 
self in  a  strange  country,  does  not  earnestly  de- 
sire to  return  to  his  fatherland  ?  Who,  about 
to  sail  in  haste  for  his  home  and  his  friends 
across  the  sea,  does  not  long  for  a  friendly 
wind,  that  he  may  the  sooner  throw  his  arms 
around  his  beloved  ones.  We  believe  Para- 
dise to  be  our  fatherland ;  our  parents  are  pa- 
triarchs :  why  should  we  not  haste  and  fly  to 
see  our  home  and  greet  our  parents  ?  A  great 


214       RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN. 

host  of  beloved  friends  await  us  there ;  a  nume- 
rous and  various  crowd,  —  parents,  brethren, 
children,  who  are  secure  in  a  blessed  immortal- 
ity, and  only  concerned  for  us,  are  looking  with 
desire  for  our  arrival.  To  see  and  embrace 
these  —  what  a  mutual  joy  will  this  be  to  us 
and  them!  What  bliss,  without  the  fear  of 
death,  to  live  eternally  in  the  heavenly  king- 
dom !  How  vast,  and  of  eternal  duratipn,  is 
our  celestial  blessedness !  .  There  is  the  glo- 
rious choir  of  the  Apostles ;  there  the  host  of 
joyful  prophets !  there  the  innumerable  com 
pany  of  the  martyrs,  crowned  on  account  oi 
their  victories  in  the  conflict  of  Buffering.  There, 
in  triumph,  are  the  pure  virgins.  There  the 
merciful  —  who  have  fed  ami  blessed  the  poor, 
and  according  to  'their  Lord's  direction,  have 
exchanged  earthly  for  heavenly  treasures,  — 
now  receive  their  glorious  reward.  To  these, 
dearly  beloved  brethren,  let  us  hasten  with 
strong  desire,  and  ardently  wish  soon  to  be 
with  them,  and  with  Christ." 

In  the  fourth  century,  Chrysostom  speaks: 
"  If  we  hear  him  (Paul)  here,  we  shall  certain- 
ly see  him  hereafter;  if  not  as  standing  near 
him,  yet  see  him  we  certainly  shall,  glistening 


RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.       215 

near  the  throne  of  the  King.  Where  the  cheru- 
bim sing  in  glory,  where  the  seraphim  are  fly- 
ing, there  shall  we  see  Paul,  with  Peter,  both 
as  a  chief  and  leader  of  the  choir  of  the  saints, 
and  shall  enjoy  his  generous  love." 

Pass  on  to  the  period  of  the  Reformation. 
The  great  German  reformer,  the  evening  before 
his  death,  being  asked  what  he  thought  on  this 
point,  remarks  as  follows :  —  "  How  did  Adam 
do  ?  He  had  never  in  his  life  seen  Eve  —  he 
lay  and  slept  —  yet,  when  he  awoke,  he  did 
not  say,  Whence  came  you  ?  —  who  are  you  ? 
but  he  said,  '  This  is  now  bone  of  my  bones, 
and  flesh  of  my  flesh.'  How  did  he  know  that 
this  woman  did  not  spring  forth  from  a  stone? 
He  knew  it  because  he  was  full  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  in  possession  of  the  true  knowledge 
of  God.  Into  this  knowledge  and  image  we 
shall,  in  the  future  life,  again  be  renewed  in 
Christ;  so  that  we  shall  know  father,  mother, 
and  one  another,  on  sight,  better  than  did  Adam 
and  Eve." 

Zwingle,  the  Swiss  reformer,  speaks:  — 
"  There  you  may  hope  to  see  the  society,  the 
assembly,  and  the  dwelling  together  of  all  the 
holy,  wise,  faithful,  heroic,  firm,  and  virtuous, 


216       RECOGNITION    OF   FRISNDS   IN   HEAVEN. 

who  have,  lived  since  the  beginning  of  the 
world. 

"  There  you  shah1  see  the  two  Adams,  the 
saved  and  the  Saviour.  There  you  will  see 
Abel,  Enoch,.  Noah,  Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob,  Ju- 
dah,  Moses,  Joshua,  Gideon,  Samuel,  Phineas, 
Elijah,  Elisha,  Isaiah,  and  the  mother  of  God, 
of  whom  he  has  prophesied.  There  you  will 
see  David,  Hezekiah,  Josiah,  John  the  Baptist, 
Peter,  Paul,  etc.  There  you  will  see  yours  who 
have  gone  before  you,  and  all  your  forefathers 
who  have  departed  this  life  in  the  faith.  In  a 
word,  no  virtuous  person,  no  holy  mind,  no 
believing  soul  has  lived  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world,  or  shall  yet  live,  that  you  shall  not 
there  meet  with.  God." 

Another  century  rolls  on,  and  we  hear  the 
sentiments  of  John  Eliot,  who  for  many  months 
before  he  died,  would  often  say  that  he  was 
shortly  going  to  heaven,  and  that  he  would 
carry  a  deal  of  good  news  thither  with  him; 
he  said  he  would  carry  tidings  to  the  old  found- 
ers of  New  England,  who  were  now  in  glory, 
that  church-work  was  yet  carried  on  among 
us  ;  that  the  number  of  our  churches  was  con- 
tinually increasing;  and  that  the  churches 


RECOGNITION    OF  FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN.      217 

were  still  kept  as  big  as  they  were,  by  the  dai- 
ly additions  of  those  'who  shall  be  saved. 
"  Shall  I  know  you  in  heaven  ?  "  said  an  inquir- 
ing red  man  to  John  Eliot  himself.  The  old 
chief  Shenandoah  wished  to  be  buried  beside 
his  religious  teacher,  that  at  the  resurrection  he 
might  go  up  with  him.  That  Choctaw  is  still 
a  living  officer  in  the  church,  who  wished  a 
ministerial  visitor  to  turn  round,  that  he  might 
have  a  full  view  of  his  face,  so  as  to  know  him 
again  in  heaven. 

These  are  specimens,  taken  from  different 
periods  and  countries  of  Christendom,  from  dif- 
ferent races  and  ranks  of  men,  among  all 
which,  however,  is  found  the  common  belief  of 
future  recognition. 

Would  that  belief  have  been  so  universal 
were  it  unreasonable  or  unscriptural  ? 

If  then,  this  hope  of  future  recognition  has 
been  so  general  even  among  the  heathen ;  if, 
while  we  long  for  its  fulfilment,  we  find  noth- 
ing to  forbid  our  hoping  that  such  may  be  the 
case  ;  most  of  all,  if  the  Scriptures  present  no 
difficulties,  but  strong  incidental  evidences, — 
evidences  which  for  centuries  have  satisfied  be- 
lievers in  the  most  varied  conditions,  —  we 


218      RECOGNITION   OF  FKIENDS    IN   HEAVEN. 

may  well  believe'  that  Christian  friends  on 
earth  will  certainly  recognize  one  another  in 
heaven.  That  affection  which  yearns  towards 
Machpelah,  which  carves  touching  memorials. 
on  the  tombs  of  the  departed  the  world  over, 
and  which  is  sanctioned  by  •  the  inspiration 
that  cannot  err  —  that  affection  is  a  true 
seer ;  and  it  would  be  like  killing  one  of  the 
prophets,  and  stoning  them  that  are  sent  unto 
us,  should  we  uproot  it  from  the  heart. 

It  is  not  of  course,  personal  friends  alone 
who  are  to  know  one  another  in  heaven.  The 
saints  in  glory  will  no  doubt  ultimately  all  be- 
come acquainted  with  each  other.  How  many 
will  at  different  times  inquire,  "  What  are  these 
which  are  arrayed  in  white  robes  ?  and  whence 
came  they?5'  And  how  many  delighted  dis- 
ciples, on  that  mount  above,  will  exclaim, 
through  everlasting  ages,  "  It  is  good  for  us  to 
be  here ! " 

O,  what  hours  will  those  be,  when  we  shall 
shake  hands  with  Enoch,  David,  and  Paul,  — 
when  we  shall  feel  around  our  necks  the  pres- 
sure of  Abraham's  arms,  and  the  beloved  disci- 
ple !  Do  we  wish  to  talk  with  the  venerable 
reformers,  mar'yrs  and  Puritans?  —  with  John 


RECOGNITION    OF    FRIENDS    IN    HEAVEN.       219 

Bunyan,  Philip  Doddridge  and  president  Ed- 
wards ?  It  will  soon  be  gratified. 

"  I  want  to  go  to  heaven,"  said  Dr.  Emmons, 
in  his  old  age.  "  It  is  an  inexpressibly  glorious 
place.  The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  de- 
lightful it  appears."  "  And  I  want  to  see  who 
is  there;  I  want  to  see  brother  Sanford,  and 
brother  Niles,  and  brother  Spring,  and  Dr.  Hop- 
kins, and  Dr.  West,  and  a  great  many  other 
ministers,  with  whom  I  have  been  associated 
in  this  world,  but  who  have  gone  before  me. 
I  believe  I  shall  meet  them  in  heaven,  and  it 
seems  to  me,  our  meeting  there  must  be  pecu- 
liarly interesting."  He  added,  "I  want  to  see 
too,  the  old  prophets,  and  the  apostles.  What 
a  society  there  will  be  in  heaven !  There  we 
shall  see  such  men  as  Moses,  and  Isaiah,  and 
Elijah,  and  David,  and  Paul;  I  want  to  see 
Paul  more  than  any  man  I  can  think  of." 

The  question,  Shall  we  know  our  friends 
and  others  in  heaven  ?  is  answered.  The  in- 
timations of  God's  word  all  favor  it;  and 
those  intimations  accord  with  the  irrepressible 
demands  of  the  human  soul.  It  was  doubtless 
in  part,  to  encourage  this  hope  that  Moses 


220      RECOGNITION    OF    FRIENDS     IN    HEAVEN. 

and  Elias  appeared  to  the  disciples,  and  talked 
with  them  on  the  mount  of  glory. 

And  if  tho»e  who  never  met  on  earth  are  to 
recognize  one  another  in  heaven,  shall  not  per- 
sonal friends  much  more?  Most  evidently 
was  it  the  apostle's  expectation  to  recognize 
his  Corinthian,  Colossian  and-  Thessalonian 
friends ;  and  has  he  been  disappointed  ?  And 
will  not  other,  yea,  all  the  sanctified  intimacies 
of  earth,  be  perpetuated  in  the  everlasting  home 
of  the  redeemed  ?  Every  place  of  holy  fellow- 
ship and  prayer  answers,  yes.  Every  inner  re- 
cess of  the  heart  answers,  yes. 

Blessed  gathering !  Blessed  greetings  !  Joy- 
ful indeed  will  be  the  meeting  of  those  who 
have  taken  sweet  counsel  together,  who  have 
devoutly  prayed  and  sung  together,  who  have 
been  companions  in  tribulation,  and  in  the 
kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ.  But 
unspeakable  must  be  the  joy  of  those  who  then 
behold  in  each  other  the  instruments  of  ttieir 
own  conversion,  or  the  results  of  their  labors  for 
the  Salvation  of  others,  and  jointly  give  all  the 
glory  to  a  present  God.  And  O,  what  heart 
will  then  be  large  enough  for  the  rapture  of  a 


RECOGNITION    OF  FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN.      221 

successful  ambassador  of  Christ! — of  one  like 
Paul,  meeting  the  multitudes  saved  through  his 
instrumentality  ?  Signal  indeed  must  be  the 
grace  that  shall  prevent  such  a  soul  from  being 
completely  overwhelmed  in  the  transport  of 
that  hour.  To  find  that  his  ministrations  were 
owned  beyond  his  thoughts ;  that  many  by  his 
preaching,  were  turned  to  righteousness  ;  that 
a  prayer  for  some  apparently  hopeless  sinner 
was  answered  ;  to  find  youthful  professors  edi- 
fied, and  aged  saints  comforted }  that  churches 
were  refreshed,  it  may  be,  by  his  presence ; 
that  directly,  or  indirectly,  foreign  evangeliza- 
tion was  accelerated  by  him ;  and  all,  only  be- 
cause sovereign  grace  called,  enabled,  and  per- 
suaded him  to  the  same. 

•  O,  it  requires  other  than  human  pens  to  de- 
scribe the  emotions  of  such  men  in  glory !       » 

But  what  friend  in  heaven  do  we  most  de- 
sire to  see  ? 

No  one  can  enter  there  whose  heart  looks 
not  first  of  all  at  him  who  is  seated  on  v  the 
great  white  throne.  What  are  our  ideas  of  the 
city  of  God?  Is  not  Christ  the  light  thereof? 
Is  not  the  glory  which  he  had  before  the  world 
was,  to  be  displayed?  Did  the x Eternal  Son 


222      RECOGNITION    OF   FRIENDS     IN   HEAVEN. 

take  a  human  form  ?  —  in  it  agonize  in  Geth- 
semane,  be  scourged  in  the  judgment-hall,  cru- 
cified on  Golgotha,  sleep  in  the  sepulchre,  and 
rise  to  heaven,  and  shall  any  other  human  form 
divert  the  eye  from  that  ?  Are  those  the  scars 
that  speak  of  precious  blood  once  shed  for  you? 
are  those  the  lips  that  cried,  "  It  is  finished  ?  " 
And  will  we  soon  withdraw  our  gaze  ?  No, 

much  as  we  love  all  other  friends,  there  is  one 

•     ' 

in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  who  will  make  us 
temporarily  forget  them  all. 

For  years  —  if  there  be  years  there  —  ay,  for 
centuries,  it  may  be,  will  the  Lamb  of  God  ab- 
sorb our  souls. 

When  we  jreach  the  city  of  God,  we  shall 
not  first  of  all,  grasp  the  hands  of  present  ac- 
quaintances. Of  such  an  affront  to  the  propri- 
eties of  heaven,  no  one,  presented  at  the  court 
of  the  King  of  kings,  was  ever  guilty.  Bow- 
ing down  in  such  gratitude  as  we  never  knew 
before,  gazing  in  a  holy  ecstasy  of  love,  break- 
ing forth  into  high  and  ceaseless  praises,  there 
shall  we  stand  age  after  age.  Not  it  may  be  till 
"the  world  has  been  burnt  up  —  not  till  the  elect 
have  all  been  gathered  home  to  their  Father's 
house,  shall  we  think  of  looking  away  from 


KECOGNITIOX     OF    FRIENDS    IX    II&AVEX.      223 

^ 

that  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  our  Sa- 
viour, our  dear  Redeemer.  Eternity  will  be 
long  enough  for  all  the  sanctified  attachments 
of  earth  to  have  full  scope.  But  the  first  song, 
the  everlasting  song,  will  be,  "  Now  unto  him 
that  loved  us,  and  hath  washed  us  from  our 
sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings 
and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father,  to  him 
be  glory  forever." 


224  T^E    VOICE    OF    SYMPATHY. 


THE  VOICE  OF  SYMPATHY. 

IT  giveth  joy  unto  the  sad, 

It  makes  the  toil-worn  stranger  glad, 

It  brings  a  light  to  sorrow's  eye, 

And  checks  the  low  and  plaintive  sigh, 

Of  heart  bereft  and  desolate, 

And  changes  even  the  ingrate. 

Who  hath  not  felt,  when  sad  and  lone, 
A  thrill  of  joy,  when  friendship's  tone 
Hath  waked  us  from  the  painful  dream 
Of  sadness  to  a  brighter  theme  ? 
With  gentle  accents  soft  and  low 
As  music  of  the  streamlets  flow- 

It  yieldeth  to  the  brow  oppressed, 

A  halo  of  the  spirit's  rest ; 

It  cometh  to  the  weary  one 

Like  music  of  our  childhood's  home ; 

Its  tones,  though  few  and  far  between, 

To  me  like  angel-visits  seem. 


THE    FAMILY   MEETING.  225 


THE  FAMILY  MEETING. 

"WE  are  all  here ! 

Father,  Mother, 

Sister,  Brother, 
All  who  hold  each  other  dear. 
Each  chair  is  filled,  —  we  're  all  at  home  ; 
To-night  let  no  cofd  stranger  come : 
It  is  not  often  thus  around 
Our  old  familiar  hearth  we  're  found : 
Bless,  then,  the  meeting  and  the  spot ; 
For  once  be  every  care  forgot : 
Let  gentle  Peace  assert  her  power, 
And  kind  Affection  rule  the  hour ; 

We  're  all  —  all  here. 

We  're  not  all  here ! 
Some  are  away,  —  the  dead  ones  dear, 
Who  thronged  with  us  this  ancient  hearth, 
And  gave*  the  hour  to  guiltless  mirth. 
Fate,  with  a  stern,  relentless  hand, 
Looked  in  and  thinned  our  little  band : 
Some  like  a  night-flash  passed  away, 
And  some  sank,  lingering,  day  by  day ; 
The  quiet  graveyard,  —  some  lie  there,— 
And  cruel 'Ocean  has  his  share, — 

We  're  not  all  here. 
15 


226  THE   FAMILY  MEETING. 

"We  are  all  here ! 

Even  they,  —  the  dead,  —  though  dead,  so  dear; 
Fond  Memory,  to  her  duty  true, 
Brings  back  their  faded  forms  to  view. 
How  life-like,  through  the  mist  of  years, 
Each  well-remembered  face  appears ! 
"We  see  them  as  in  times  long  past, 
From  each  to  each  kind  looks  are  cast ; 
"We  hear  their  words,  their  smiles  behold ; 
They  're  round  us,  as  they  were  of  old,  — 
"We  are  all  here.' 

"We  are  all  here ! 

Father,  Mother, 

Sister,  Brother, 

Tou  that  I  love  with  love  so  dear. 
This  may  not  long  of  us  be  said ; 
Soon  must  we  join  the  gathered  dead ; 
And  by  the  hearth  we  now  sit  round, 
Some  other  circle  will  be  found. 
0,  then,  that  wisdom  may  we  know, 
"Which  yields  a  life  of  peace  below ! 
So,  in  the  world  to  follow  this, 
May  each  repeat,  in  words  of  bliss, 

"We  're  all — all  here! 


COME   TO    THE   LAJfD    OF   PEACE.  227 


COME  TO  THE  LAND  OP  PEACE. 

COME  to  the  land  of  peace ! 
Come  where  the  tempest  hath  no  longer  sway, 
The  shadow  passes  from  the  soul  away, 

The  sounds  of  weeping  cease  ! 

Fear  hath  no  dwelling  there  ! 
Come  to  the  mingling  of  repose  and  love ! 
Breathed  by  the  silent  spirit  of  the  dove 

Through  the  celestial  air ! 

Come  to  the  bright  and  blest, 
And  crowned  forever !  —  'midst  that  shining  band, 
Gathered  to  Heaven's  own  wreath  from  every  land, 

Thy  spirit  shall  find  rest ! 

Thou  hast  been  long  alone ; 
Come  to  thy  mother !  —  on  the  Sabbath  shore, 
The  heart  that  rocked  thy  childhood  back  once  more 

Shall  take  its  wearied  one. 

In  silence  wert  thou  left ! 
Come  to  thy  sister's !  — joyously  again 
All  the  home-voices  blest  in  one  sweet  strain, 

Shall  greet  their  long  bereft. 

Over  thine  orphan  head 

The  storm  hath  swept,  as  o'er  a  willow's  bough ;    \ 
Come  to  thy  father !  —  it  is  finished  now ; 

Thy  tears  have  all  been  shed. 


228     MOTHER'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

In  thy  divine  abode 

Change  finds  no  pathway,  memory  no  dark  trace ; 
And  O,  bright  victory  ;' —  death  by  love  no  place ! 

Come,  spirit,  to  thy  God ! 


MOTHER'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

THREE  beautiful  children  made  glad  the 
home  of  a  happy  mother.  Her  love  for  them 
was  intense,  and  her  care  never  failing.  They 
were  in  her  thoughts  all  the  day  long,  and  in 
her  dreams  by  night.  The  youngest  of  these 
children  was  a  boy.  He  had  large  deep  blue 
eyes,  and  his  long  lashes  when  he  slept  lay 
upon  his  cheeks  like  the  lashes  of  a  woman. 
Something  in  his  face  ever  awakened  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  gazed  upon  him,  thoughts 
of  heaven,  and  many  said  of  him  that  he  was 
but  a  stranger  here,  and  would  soon  return  to 
his  own  country.  And  such  thoughts  came 
sometimes  to  the  happy  mother,  and  then  her 
heart  trembled  and  grew  faint. 

At  last,  what  had  been  feared  befel  the  child. 
The  Angel  of  death  came  and  removed  him 
from  his  earthly  abode,  to  his  heavenly  dwell- 
ing-place, and  the  stricken  mother  bowed  her 


MOTHER'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEX.  229 

head  and  would  not  listen  to  the  voice  of  con- 
solation. 

"  God  'is  good,"  were  the  words  of  one  who 
sought  to  comfort  her,  "and  he  afflicts  us  in 
loving  kindness." 

"  I  will  not  belieVe  it,"  replied  the  weeping 
mother.  "  It  was  not  good  to  take  from  me 
my  precious  boy." 

"He  is  with  the  angels,  —  think  of  that 
The  great  problem  of  his  life  is  solved,  and  it 
is  well  with  him.  There  is  neither  doubt,  nor 
fear,  nor  anxiety  on  his  account,  for  he  is  safe 
in  the  everlasting  habitations  of  our  Father  in 
heaven." 

The  mother  listened,  and  the  consoler  went 
on. 

"  No  more  grief,  no  more  sorrow,  no  more 
pain  !  Think  of  that.  Let  not  your  thoughts 
droop  with  feeble  wings  about  the  dark  and 
gloomy  grave.  He  is  not  there.  But,  let  them 
rise  on  swift  and  sunny  pinions  to  the  beauti- 
ful dwelling-place  of  the  angels.  His  decaying 
body  alone  fills  the  grave ;  but  his  pure  spirit, 
that  gave  life  and  beauty  to  its  earthly  tene- 
ment, has  gone  to  his  better  home. 

Would  you   have   him   back   again?     Had 


230  MOTHER'S  DKEAM  OF  HEAYEN. 

you  the  power,  with  a  word,  to  call  him  to 
earth,  would  you  speak  that  word,  now  that  he 
has  escaped  the  long  trial  and  suffering  that 
comes  to  all  who  have  to  make  the  journey  of 
life  ?  No,  I  am  sure  you  would  not." 

The  tears  of  the  mother  ceased  to  flow,  and 
she  bent  nearer  to  him  who  spoke,  and  listened 
more  intently.  He  went  on. 

"  All  children  who  die,  are  raised  up  in  heav- 
en and  received  by  angels,  who  love  them  with 
the  utmost  tenderness.  Your  dear  boy,  though 
h§  has  been  taken  from  an  earthly  mother,  has 
already  found  a  heavenly  one.  ,  And  you  have 
not  really  lost  him,  for  he  is  present  in  your 
thoughts,  and  you  love  him  with  even  an  inten- 
ser  affection  than  before.  To  part  with  him  is 
hard  ;  for  our  natural  feelings  cling  to  those  we 
love,  and  their  removal  brings  exquisite  pain. 
But  our  natural  feelings  have  in  them  the  taint 
of  selfishness,  and  it  is  needful  that  they  should 
be  elevated  and  purified ;  or,  rather,  that  they 
should  die  in  order  that  spiritual  affections  may 
be  born.  And  what  are  spiritual  affections? 
•The  love  of  things  good  and  true  for  their  own 

sake?     And  such  affections  are  not  born  unless 

i 

natural  affections  are  laid  in  the  grave.     The 


MOTHER'S   DKEAM  OF  HEAVEN.  231 

death  of  these  affections  is  always  accompanied 
by  pain ;  but  the  birth  of  corresponding  spirit- 
ual affections  will  be  with  joy.  The  deep  sor- 
row you  now  feel  is  a  natural  sorrow.  Your 
heart  is  aching  for  its  loss  ;  and  even  while  rea- 
son and  religion  tell  you  that  this  removal  from 
earth  to  heaven  is  one  of  infinite  blessedness 
to  jour  boy,  you  mourn  his  loss  and'will  not 
be  comforted.  But,  it  is  for  you  to  look  up 
and  feel  an  exquisite  joy  in  the  thought  that 
you  have  added  one  to  the  company  of  God's 
angels.  It  may  not  be  now ;  it  cannot  be  now; 
for  the  smiting  of  your  natural  affections  is  too 
recent,  and  the  waters  of  affliction  must  flow  for 
a  time.  And,  it  is  good  that  they  should  flow 
forth,  in  order  that  spiritual  consolation  may 
flow  into  your  heart  from  heaven.  But,  this 
influx  of  healing  waters  will  depend  on  your 
self. 

You  must  be  willing  to  look  up  and  to  seek 
comfort  from  the  only  source  whence  it  springs. 
You  must  be  spiritually  glad  that  your  child 
has  gone  to  heaven  —  that  is,  glad  for  his  sake, 
and  for  those  who  are  made  happier  in  heaven 
by  his  presence.  There  is  such  a  gladness  — 
but  it  thrills  in  a  region  of  the  mind  far  above 


262     MOTHER'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

the  place  where  natural  affections  move  —  and 
it  is  full  of  that  interior  delight  which  fills  the 
heart  of  angels." 

Thus  spoke  the  Comforter,  and  his  words 
found  their  way  into  the  mother's  heart.  She 
did  not  make  a  response,  but  her  thoughts  were 
filled  with  new  images  ;  and  even  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  her  sorrow,  she  tried  .to  look  away 
from  her  own  loss  and  to  think  of  all  that  her 
absent  one  had  gained. 

In  the  night  following,  as  she  lay  slumbering 
on  her  pillow,  which  was  wet  with  tears,  a 
sweet  dream,  that  was  not  all  a  dream,  carne 
to  her.  She  saw  before  her  a  company  of  an- 
gels, surrounded  by  infants  and  little  children  — 
the  latter  dressed  in  white  garments,  with  flow- 
ers blushing  amid  their  clustering  curls.  They 
were  in  a  garden,  and  the  children  were  sport- 
ing with  one  another,  and,  ever-  as  they  drew 
near  or  touched  the  flowers  that  were  springing 
around  them,  each  blossom  glowed  with  a  new 
and  living  beauty.  Eagerly  the  mother  looked 
for  her  precious  boy,  for  she  knew  that  he  was 
in  this  company,  and,  as  she  looked , intently, 
one  of  the  angels,  who  held  a  child  by  the  hand, 
separated  .lerself  from  the  rest,  and  approached 


MOTHER'S   DKEAM  OF  HEAVEN.  233 

her.  She  knew  her  sweet  one  in  an  instant; 
and,  oh,  inexpressible  delight !  she  knew  the 
angel  also.  It  was  her  own  mother!  Her 
mother,  who  had  been  taken  to  heaven  when 
sae  was  only  a  child,  but  whose  gentle,  loving 
face,  had  ever  remained  pictured  on  her  memory. 

Oh,  the  exquisite  joy  of  that  moment !  Her 
own  mother  was  now  the  angel-mother  of  her 
beautiful  boy.  How  sweet  the  smile  that 
beamed  upon  her  eyes  seen  only  in  dreams  for 
years !  and,  as  her  lost  darling  sprang  into  her 
arms,  and  laid  his  head  upon  her  bosom,  a 
voice  of  exquisite  melody,  whose  tones  had 
come  to  her  as  if  from  afar  off  many  and  many 
a  time,  since  childhood,  said  :  — 

"  Daughter,  be  comforted !  He  was  too  pure, 
too  gentle,  too  frail  for  earth.  Life  would  have 
been  sorely  tried  and  tempted  of  evil,  and,  per- 
chance, might  have  fallen  by  the  way.  There- 
fore in  mercy  he  was  removed  to  this  heavenly 
land,  where  there  is  no  evil  to  tempt,  no  pain  to 
afflict,  no  grief  to  bow  the  stricken  heart.  Sor- 
row not  for  him,  for  all  is  well.  He  has  been 
committed  to  my  care,  and  I  will  love  him  with 
a  tenderness  made  deeper  for  the  love  that  is 
felt  for  you. 


234  MOTHER'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

"A  little  while  longer,  and  you  will  be  called 
home.  I  will  keep  your  darling  safe  for  you 
until  that  time." 

An  angel's  kiss  then  warmed  the  mothers 
cheek,  and  she  awoke.  Heavenly  light  and 
heavenly  music  were  in  her  chamber.  Slowly 
the  light  faded,  and  the  music  grew  fainter  and 
more  distant ;  not  outwardly  but  inwardly  dis- 
tant ;  and  as  she  hearkened  after  it,  bending 
her  spirit  towards  heaven,  she  still  "heard  the 
sounds;  and,  even  yet  she  can  hear  them, 
when  earthly  grief  is  hushed,  and  her  mind  is 
elevated  into  heavenly  tranquillity. 

From  that  time,  joy  mingled  with  the  moth- 
er's sorrow.  She  believed  the  dream.  To  her 
it  was  not  fantastic,  but  a  vision  of  things  that 
were.  She  had  treasure  above,  and  her  heart 
was  there  also.  Love's  golden  chain  had  ex- 
tended its  links,  and  the  last  one  was  fastened 
in  heaven.  Daily,  hourly,  momently,  she  miss- 
ed the  one  who  was  away,  and  she  longed  to 
hear  again  tHe  sound  of  his  happy  voice,  and  to 
look  upon  his  beautiful  face;  but  she  knew 
where  he  was,  anl  that  it  was  well  with  him ; 
and  she  dried  her  eyes  and  patiently  bore  her 
affliction. 


A   VOICE   FROM  HEAVEN.  235 


A  VOICE  FROM  HEAVEN. 

"  I  SHINE  in  the  light  of  God, 

His  likeness  stamps  my  brow, 
Through  the  shadow  of  death  my  feet  have  trod, 

And  I  reign  in  glory  now. 
No  breaking  heart  is  here, 

No  keen  and  thrilling  pain, 
No  wasted  cheek,  which  frequent  tears 

Have  soiled  and  left  their  stain. 

"  I  have  found  the  joys  of  Heaven,  t 

I  am  one  of  the  Angel  band ; 
To  my  head  a  crown  is  given, 

And  a  harp  is  in  my  hand. 
I  have  learned  the  song  they  sing, 

Whom  Jesus  hath  made  free, 
And  the  glorious  halls  of  Heaven  still  ring 

"With  my  new-born  minstrelsy. 

"  No  sin,  no  grief,  no  pain ; 

Safe  in  my  happy  home, 
My  fears  all  fled,  my  doubts  all  slain, 

My  hour  of  triumph  come. 
Friends  of  my  mortal  years ! 

The  trusted  and  the  true, 
Ye  are  walking  still  in  the  vale  of  tears, 

And  I  wait  to  welcome  you ! 


236  A   VOICE   FKOM   HEAVEN. 

«  Do  I  forget  ?     Oh  no ! 

For  memory's  golden  chain 
Shall  bind  my  heart  to  the  hearts  below, 

Till  they  meet,  and  touch  again. 
Each  link  is  strong  and  bright, 

And  love's  electric  chain 
Flows  freely  down  like  a  river  of  light, 

To  the  world  from  whence  I  came. 

"  Do  you  mourn  when  another  star 
Shines  out  from  the  glittering  sky  ? 

Do  you  weep  when  the  voice  of  war, 
And  the  rage  of  conflicts  die  ? 

Then  why  do  your  tears  roll  down  ? 
And  your  hearts  be  sore  riven  ? 

For  another  gem  in  the  Saviour's  crown, 
•     At  d  another  soul  in  Heaven." 


ANCHOR   THY   HOPE   IN   HEAVEN.  237 


ANCHOR  THY  HOPE  IN  HEAVEN. 

THE  brightest  gem  the  crown  of  life  can  show, 

Casting  a  radiance  on  our  path  below, 

Where  clouds  are  gathering,  and  the  lowering  storm 

Seems  almost  bursting  o'er  the  shrinking  form, 

The  sun  of  Hope  o'er  the  horizon  gleams, 

Sheds  o'er  the  faulting  spirit  healing  beams. 

Hope  on  —  hope  ever  —  life  hath  many  flowers, 
Twining  around  us  e'en  in  gloomy  hours ; 
The  cloudiest  day  will  have  bright  gleams  of  light, 
And  stars  will  twinkle  through  the  darkest  night. 

Retrace  the  past,  there  may  be  sorrow-tears, 
Yet  joy  —  heart-soothing  joy  —  also  appears ; 
If  rightly  read,  each  trial-sacrifice 
Would  seem  as  mercies  —  angels  in  disguise. 

Hope  on  —  hope  ever  —  what  if  hope  deceive ; 
Are  we  not  happier  when  we  thus  believe  ? 
Look  tq  the  brightest  side  through  misery's  veil, 
Anchor  thy  hopes  in  Heaven,  —  they  cannot  fail. 


238  THE  ANGEL   MEETING. 


THE  ANGEL  MEETING. 

"  But  may  ye  not,  unseen,  around  us  hover 

"With  gentle  promptings,  and  sweet  influence  yet, 

Though  the  fresh  glory  of  those  days  be  over, 

When  'midst  the  palm-trees,  man  your  footsteps 
met?" 

THE  last  tints  of  the  fading  light  of  day  rested 
upon  the  pale,  sunken  cheek  of  our  beloved 
Nellie.  The  night  breezes  strayed  to  and  fro 
amid  the  leafy  branches  near,  with  low  mur- 
murs which  seemed  to  sigh  a  mournful  requiem 
over  dying  hope,  blighted  in  its  tender  youth. 

Nellie  was  beautiful ;  her  dark  eye  was  large 
and  eloquent  with  rare  thoughts  which  thickly 
peopled  the  chambers  of  her  mind.  Her  soul 
was  ruled  by  the  mighty  power  of  Genius,  so 
that  her  "words  were  words  of  wisdom;"  and 
she  "  wielded  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer." 

The  muses  lent  their  aid  and  she  struck  the 
chords  of  her  lyre  and  sung  in  sweetest  melody 
of  verse  —  and  those  who  read  admired,  rejoic- 
ing for  the  joy  that  new  and  beautiful  thoughts 
had  been  presented  them,  and  blessed  the  origi- 
nator of  the  same. 


THE    A.NGEL   MEETING.  239 


Of  late  many  gloomy  shadows  had  passed 
over  her  bright  pathway,  dimming  the  future, 
and  dark  clouds  of  uncertainty  hovered  near. 

Disease  had  placed  its  withering  blight  upon 
her  delicate  form,  and  we  feared  she  must  die ; 
but  our  spirits  rebelled  and  said,  "  we  cannot 
give  thee,up,  oh  Nellie!  thou  art  so  dear  —  so 
beautiful  and  good !  " 

She  had  watched  the  going  down  of  the 
summer's  sun,  #s  it  passed  away  in  all  its  pa- 
geant glory;  and  the  air  was  now  soft  and 
balmy  —  filled  with  the  odor  of  many  4  and 
beautiful  flowers. 

Slowly  came  forth  pale  Luna  with  her  glit- 
tering throng. 

Their  bright  rays  fell  here  and  there  amid 
the  dark  foliage ;  and  airy  beings  stole  gently 
by,  sporting  with  its  glancing  moonbeams. 

As  Nellie  gazed  out  upon  this  enchanting 
scene,  behold !  two  spirits  met  in  mid-air —  the 
Life-angel  and  the  Death-angel. 

The  Death-angel  spread  out  its  broad,  dark 
wing,  and  in  tones  like  the  elow  dropping  of 
molten  lead,  spake  in  these  words :  "  I  have 
come  again  from  the  spirit-land  —  I  have  come 
to  bear  a  noble  one  from  these  thy  realms; 


£40  THE   ANGEL   MEETING. 

transported  to  worlds  of  light  to  join  the  heav- 
enly choristers,  and  chant  eternal  songs  of  love." 

The  Life-angel  replied :  "  Why  comest  thou 
so  often  from  out  thy  dark  dwelling  to  take  as 
thy  victims  the  creatures  of  my  care  ?  but  if 
I  must  give  to  thee  now  one  of  my  precious 
treasures,  be  content  with  an  aged  one  who 
has  long  dwelt  here  a  pilgrim  sojourner.  Let 
now  his  wanderings  cease,  and  take  him  to  thy 
embrace,  for  his  body  is  weak,  fcnd  his  soul  has 
grown  faint  and  weary  of  earth." 

But  the  Death-angel  said,  "  nay,  that  cannot 
be  —  still  longer  must  he  linger — his  time  is 
not  mine.  I  have  not  come  for  the  withered 
tree  —  dry  and  seared  in  leaf  and  branch ;  but 
for  the  young  and  tender  plant.  It  is  my  Mas- 
ter's bidding.  He  calleth  for  such  an  one, 
transplanted  to  bloom,  warmed  by  the  genial 
rays  of  His  own  light,  in  His  immediate  pres- 
ence. Give  me'  a  youth  —  a  fair  and  gentle 
youth ! " 

The  Life-angel  pointed  to  a  stately  mansion 
saying,  "  There  dwells  a  youth  just  in  his  prime, 
blessed  with  power  and  wealth.  He  holds 
himself  a  ruler  of  the  lowly,  and  the  oppressor 
of  the  unfortunate.  Lo,  he  is  mighty  and  great 


THE   ANGEL    MEETING.  241 

in  power  and  strength !     Behold,  the  sous  of 
men  do  him  homage  ! 

"  If  thou  shouldst  send  thy  poisoned  arrow 
through  his  heart  and  pour  thy  icy  chillness  in 
his  veins,  now  filled  with  the  warm  current  that 
I  give  to  mortals ;  should  he  in  his  pride  and 
honor  fall  at  thy  command  to  leave  his  gold, 
then  would  his  devotees  with  pomp  and  pa- 
geant show,  over  the  worthless  dust  thou  leavest 
behind,  make, signs  of  great  mourning  —  rear  to 
his  memory  a  costly  monument,  and  laud  his 
name  afar." 

Again  the  Death-angel  spake  —  "  Not  worth 
like  this  is  worth  in  the  holy  mansions  of  heaven. 
His  gems  not  such  as  gem  the  choral  throng ; 
and  the  power  that  rubies  give  to  man  on  earth 
is  weakness  there. 

"  My  Master  calleth  for  one  whose  presence 
would  add  brightness  to  the  shining  band. — 
Would  one,  who  leaveth  all  his  goods  behind, 
whose  soul  is  stained  with  the  dark  deeds  of 
oppression  and  injustice;  which,  though  the 
world  beheld  performed  and  said  'twas  right, 
because  he  daily  knelt  before  our  Master's 
throne,  there  to  repeat  the  words  of  adulation, 
—  would  he,  I  ask,  add  light  to  brightness7 
16 


242  THE   ANGEL    MEETING. 

•  \ 

"  Soul-worth  and  heart-goodness  alone  shall 
gain  the  reward  of  heaven  —  the 'favor  of  love 
divine  !  "  'and  looking  down  upon  lone,  sad  Nel- 
lie, the  angel  thus  exclaimed  :  "  There  is  the 
boon  I  ask  ;  oh,  give  hereto  me ! " 

The  Life-angel  sorrowing  said,  "  Gladly 
would  I  give  her  to  thee,  but  'tis  hard  to  bid 
one  so  young,  so  tender,  go  through  the  dark 
flood  —  its  waters  are  so  deep,  so  very^cold! 
I  know  the  shore  is  green  and  beautiful  beyond ; 
that  it  is  all  bright  there  where  no  night  'is.  I 
know  she  is»  an  orphan,  bereft  of  kindred  and 
friends,  who  at  thy  signal  have  gone  to  the 
spirit-world ;  that  her  tired  soul  often  yearns 
for  rest,  the  rest  that  is  found  in  the  far-off 
land  to  which  thou  bearest  such  as  she  —  oh, 
choose  some  flower  less  lovely !  for  I  can  boast 
of  few  so  good  as  she,  - —  yet  if  it  be  God's  will 
—  not  mine  be  done  :  still  let  her  linger  while 
the  flowers  are  blooming,  while  all  is  life  and 
beauty  in  this  sweet  summer  time.  It  is  not 
fit  to  take  her  from  such  scenes  as  these ! " 

The  Death-angel  soon  replied  —  "  All  is  well. 
Be  it  even  as  thou  hast  said.  When  1  call  for 
her  it  shall  be  the  sad,  sweet  autumn  .time ; 
then  will  I  take  her  to  my  dark  domain,  and 


THE    ANGEL    MEETING.  243 

from  thence  up  to  realms  of  light,"  and  rejoic- 
ing that  at  last  he  had  found  the  object  of  his 
search,  and  well  nigh  ready  to  be  carried  from 
this  vale  below,  —  let  fall  the  shadow  of  its 
wing  upon  her  lovely  form  and  sealed  her  for 
his  own,  and  shouted,  "  she  is  mine!" 

During  all  this  time  another  angel  form  had 
lingered  near,  and  heard  the  low  communings 
of  these  two. 

It  was  Nellie's  guardian  angel  —  the  spirit 
of  Genius.  When  it  caught  their  tones  and 
knew  that  she  must  go,  it  let  fall  its  head  and 
wept  —  yes,  great  in  all  its  loftiness,  its  glory  and 
might ;  bowed  low  and  mourned  that  this  dear 
object  of  its  charge  must,  thus  early,  know  the 
blight  of  death ! 

There  was  a  low  murmuring  like  the  bitter 
sighs  of  tho^e  afar,  and  the  dew-drops  gently 
descended  to  the  ground. 

Did  not  Nellie  hear  in  the  murmurings  of  the 
winds,  the  sighs  of  the  Life-angel  and  Genius 
wailing  together  ?  and  did  she  not  look  upon 
the  descending  drops  as  their  tears  being  wept 
for  her  ?  and  Nellie  wept  too. 

Days,  weeks  passed  by ;  at  last  there  came  a 
frost,  a  blight,  and  the  beautiful  flowers  drooped 


244  THE   ANGEL   MEETING. 

their  heads ;  their  leaves  withered  and  dying 
whispered,  "  thou  Nellie  too  must  die !  " 

A  little  later  the  branches  of  the  trees  were 
bare  —  their  foliage  scattered  on  the  ground 
rustled  sadly,  mournfully  in  the  gale.  In  the 
same  room  where  upon  that  summer's  eve  Nel- 
lie had  seen  in  her  soul  a  vision  of  the  angel- 
meeting,  now  lay  a  cold,  still  form. 

The  spirit  of  Nellie  had  fled  its  earthly  tene- 
ment. 

Again  there  was  mourning  upon  earth,  but 
in  heaven  there  was  joy, —  exceeding  joy  that 
a  sister  spirit  had  joined  their  throng.  With 
her  golden  harp  she  sung,  in  softest,  sweetest 
strains,  praises  to  God  upon  his  throne,  and 
cried,  "joy !  joy !"  The  heavenly  arches  and 
the  celestial  band  echoed,  "joy!  joy!  " 

AN  angel  form,  with  brow  of  light, 

Watched  over  a  sleeping  infant's  dream, 

And  gazed  as  though  his  visage  bright 
He  there  beheld  as  in  a  stream. 

Fair  child,  whose  face  with  love  doth  shine, 
O  come,  he  said,  and  fly  with  me ; 

Come  forth  to  happiness  divine, 
For  earth  is  all  unworthy  thee ! 

The  angel  shook  his  snowy  wings, 
And  through  the  fields  of  ether  sped, 

Where  heaven's  eternal  music  rings,  — 
Mother,  alas !  thy  child  is  dead !  — 


SIXG   TO   ME    OP   HEAVEN.  245 


I'VE  heard  you  sing  of  earthly  bowers, 
All  overhung  with  fading  flowers ; 

Now  sing  to  me  of  heaven ! 
Though  earth's  young  buds  may  open  fair, 
There  is  a  poison  in  the  air, 
•A.  blight  on  every  blossom  there ; 

Oh  sing  to  me  of  heaven ! 

Fm  fainting  with  the  dust  and  strife 
That  fill  the  battle-field  of  life ; 

Oh  sing  to  me  of  heaven ! 
The  white-robed  angels  gently  move 
Among  the  happy  fields  above, 
And  all  their  words  are  breathed  in  love ; 

Oh  sing  to  me  of  heaven ! 

Aye,  sing !  for  I  am  longing  so 
To  that  delightful  rest  to  go, 

The  holy  rest  of  heaven ! 
Your  notes  will  make  my  spirit  strong 
To  rise  o'er  mortal  grief  and  wrong, 
And  listen  to  the  angels'  song ; 

Oh  sing  to  me  of  heaven ! 


246  GUIDE   TO   HEAVEN. 

GUIDE  TO  HEAVEN. 
MY  Sister, 
The  Bible, 
God's  holy  Word, 
Which  he  to  sinful  man  has  given, 
Bright  morning  star  — 
The  only  star 

To  point  the  wanderer  home  to  Heaven. 
My  Sister, 
The  Bible, 
The  only  mirror 

Which  shows  to  man  his  base  behavior 
To  Him  who  died, 
The  crucified, 

But  now  the  great  —  the  risen  Saviour. 
My  sister, 
The  Bible, 
A  brother's  gift ; 
A  gift  to  prize  above  all  others. 
It  gives  you  light, 
It  bring's  you  life, 
It  brings  you  love  beyond  a  brother's. 

My  sister,  . 

f  The  Bible, 
O,  prize  it  well. 

'Tis  Heaven's  chart,  to  guide  you  home 
To  worlds  of  light, 
Where,  robed  in  white, 
The  Saviour  smiling,  bids  you  come. 


THE  CHILD'S  THOUGHT  OF  HEAVEN.       247 


THE  CHILD'S  FIRST  THOUGHT  OF  HEAVEN. 

"  DEAR  mother,  why  those  marks  of  care, 
Those  lines  of  white  in  thy  dark  hair  ? 
It  was  not  so  last  Christmas-day ; 
Why,  tell  me  why  your  locks  are  gray  ?  " 

"  My  son,  the  harvest  draweth  nigh, 
When  I  must  lay  me  down  to  die." 

"  I  well  remember  how  you  cried, 
The  day  that  little  Henry  died, 
But  still  can  see  your  placid  look 
When  reading  from  God's  holy  Book." 

"  My  son,  a  hope  to  me  was  given, 
That  I  should  meet  him  soon  in  heaven." 

"  But  when  my  body,  too,  shall  die, 
And  silent  in  the  cold  earth  lie, 
Will  not  my  soul  in  joy  arise 
To  meet  our  Henry  in  the  skies  ?  " 

"  It  will,  my  son,  if  here  on  earth 
You  truly  know  the  second  birth." 

"  I  want  to  meet  you,  too,  dear  mother, 
With  father,  May  and  baby  brother ; 
And  Katy  Ray,  our  good  old  nurse, 
•     Won't  she  be  there  to  see  to  us  ?  " 


248  "I   WANT   TO    BE   AN   ANGEL." 

"  My  son',  there's  room  for  all  above, 
Who  ne'er  forget  that '  God  is  love.' 
Go  on,  and  through  life's  fleeting  day, 
0,  ne'er  my  boy,  forget  to  pray ; 
And  when  o'erhangs  the  gloom  of  even, 
You'll  sleep  on  earth  to  wake  in  heaven." 


«I  WANT  TO  BE  AN  ANGEL." 

JN  the  door  of  a  New  England  cottage  sat  a 
little  child,  at  the  close  of  a  summer  Sabbath 
day.  The  twilight  was  fading,  and  as  the 
shades  of  evening  deepened  into  darkness,  one 
after  another  of  the  stars  stood  out  in  the  sky, 
and  looked  down  on  the  child  in  his  thought- 
ful mood.  He  looked  up  into  the  mysterious 
chambers  above  him,  and  counted  the  bright 
spots  as  they  came,  till  his  eyes  grew  weary  of 
watching  the  worlds  of  light,  which  to  him  were 
only  holes  in  heaven's  floor  to  let  the  glory 
through.  And  the  child  became  so  thoughtful 
in  his  reverie,  that  his  mother  said  to  him, 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  son  ?" 
•     He  started  as  suddenly  awakened   from   a 
dream ;  and  when  she  repeated  her  inquiry,  he 
could  only  say, 


"I   "WANT   TO    BE   AN   ANGEL."  249 

"  I  was  thinking  —  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  child,  I  knew  you  were  think- 
ing, and  I  wish  you  would  tell  your  mother 
what  you  were  thinking  of." 

"  O,"  said  he,  and  his  little  eyes  sparkled  in 
the  dark  with   the  thought   on   his   lips,  "  O 
mother,  I  want  to  be  angel!" 
•      "  And  will  you  tell  me,  my  precious  boy, 
why  you  would  be  an  angel?" 

"  Heaven  is  away  up  there,  mother,  and  God 
is  there,  and  the  angels  love  him,  and  are  so 
good  and  so  happy ;  I  want  to  be  good  and  go 
there  to  love  God,  and  be  an  angel  to  wait  on 
him  forever." 

There  was  something  so  much  like  the  voice 
of  heaven  in  these  words,  that  the  mother, 
proud  of  her  son,  but  trembling  for  her  treasure, 
called  him  to  her  knee  ;  and,  as  he  Isfld  his  head 
on  her  bosom  and  wept,  she  thought  she  had 
been  warned  as  in  a  vision.  But  she  was  wise 
as  well  as  fond  in  her  affection,  and  she  kissed 
his  forehead,  and  smoothed  his  silken  hair,  and 
in  a  low,  gentle  voice  told  him  to  be  a  good 
boy,  and  by-and-by  he  should  be  an  angel 
among  angels.  His  young  heart  was  comforted. 
He  sat  on  her  knee  for  an  hour,  and  asked 


250  "I   WANT   TO   BE   AN   ANGEL." 

strange,  deep  questions,  which  the  mother  could 
not  always  answer ;  and  then  he  knelt  by  her 
side,  and  with  her  soft  hand  on  his  h€ad,  he  re- 
peated his  evening  prayer. 

"  Jesus,  Saviour,  Son  of  God, 
Wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood ; 
I  thy  little  lamb  would  be, 
Help  me,  Lord,  to  look  to  thee." 

A  few  minutes  afterward  he  was  in  his  cot 
asleep,  dreaming,  perhaps,  of  heaven. 

Within  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  year,  when 
the  summer  was  gone,  but  the  mellow  autumn 
was  yet  lingering,  and  the  leaves  had  not 
yet  changed  to  fall,  the  child  fell  sick,  and  the 
light  of  that  cottage,  the  joy  of  that  mother's 
heart  went  out.  He  breathed  his  last  in  her 
arms  ;  ancras  he  took  her  parting  kiss,  he  whis- 
pered in  her  ear,  "  /  am  going-  to  be  an  angel !  " 

And  so  death  closed  those  little  eyes  — 
shrouded  their  bright  glances.  O,  that  the  sun 
would  not  come  streaming  in  on  that  shrouded 
form,  as  if  there  were  no  grief  in  the  world ! 

How  sweetly  he  sleeps  —  that  little  coveted 
angel !  How  lightly  curl  the  glossy  rings  on 
his  white  forehead!  You  could  weep  your 


"I   WANT   TO    BE   AN   ANGtL."  251 

very  soul  away,  to  think  those  cherub  lips  will 
.never,  never  unclose.  Vainly  you  ciasp  and 
unclasp  that  passive,  darling  hand,  that  has 
wandered  so  often  over  your  cheek.  —  Vainly 
your  anguished  glance  strives  to  reap  the  dim 
story  of  love  in  these  faded  orbs. — The  voice, 
sweet  as  winds  blowing  through  wreathed 
shells,  slumbers  forever.  And  still  the  busy 
world  knocks  at  your  door,  and  will  let  you 
have  no  peace. 

It  shouts  in  your  ear ;  its  chariots  rumble  by ; 
it  smiles  broadly  in  your  careworn  face ;  it 
mocks  you  as  you  sew  the  shroud ;  it  meets 
you  at  the  coffin,  at  the  grave,  and  its  heavy 
footsteps  tramp  up  and  down  in  the  empty 
rooms  from  whence  you  have  borne  your  dead. 
But  it  comes  never  in  the  hush  of  night,  so 
wipe  away  your  tears ! 

Can  you  look  up  ?  Can  you  bear  the  splen- 
dor of  that  sight?  Ten  thousand  celestial 
beings,  and  your  own  radiant  child  in  their 
midst ! 

Cling  not  too  closely  to  your  beautiful  trea- 
sures, children  of  earth!  ; 


252  THE    CHERUB     CHILD. 


•    THE  CHERUB   CHILD. 

GOD  looked  among  his  cherub  band, 
And  one  was  wanting  there, 

To  swell  along  the  holy  band 
The  hymns  of  praise  and  prayer. 

One  little  soul  which  long  had  been 
Half  way  'tween  earth  and  sky, 

Untempted  in  a  world  of  sin, 
He  watched  with  loving  eye. 

It  was  too  promising  a  flower 

To  bloom  upon  this  earth, 
And  God  did  give  it  angel  power, 

And  bright  celestial  birth. 

The  world  was  all  too  bleak  and  cold, 

To  yield  it  quiet  rest ; 
God  brought  it  to  a  Shepherd's  fold, 

And  laid  it  on  his  breast. 

There,  Mother,  in  thy  Saviour's  arms, 

Forever  undefiled, 
Amid  the  little  cherub  band, 

Is  thy  beloved  child. 


OUR    DARLIXG. 


OUK  DARLING. 

OH  !  weep  with  me,  our  darling's  dead ! 

"We've  laid  him  low ; 
Cold  wintry  winds  above  his  head 

Now  rudely  blow. 

And  starry  snow-flakes  softly  fall 

Above  his  bed ; 
Gently,  as  at  some  spirit's  call, 

To  guard  the  dead. 

'Twas  tranquil  summer's  day 

We  laid  him  there  ; 
Pale  blooming  flowers  drooping  lay 

Around  his  hair. 

The  gentle  zephyrs  mildly  played 

O'er  his  pale  brow  ; 
We  wept  when  low  his  form  was  laid ; 

We  mourn  him  now. 

• 

Yet  while  we  weep,  a  voice  we  hear, 

A  voice  of  love ; 
It  bids  us  wipe  the  falling  tear, 

And  look  above. 

The  grave  is  not  your  loved  one's  home, 
Not  where  he  lies. 


254  CHILDREN    IN     HEAVEN. 

H-is  spirit  evermore  shall  roam 
In  Paradise. 

Sweet  angel-boy  !    Thou  wert  not  given 

Long  here  to  dwell. 
From  earth's  rude  blast  thou'rt  safe  in  Heaven. 

'Tis  weU;  'tis  well! 


CHILDKEN  IN  HEAVEN. 

WHO  are  they  whose  little  feet, 
Pacing  life's  dark  journey  through, 

Now  have  reached  that  heavenly  seat 
They  have  ever  kept  in  view ! 

"  I  from  Greenland's  frozen  land, 

I  from  India's  sultry  plain, 
I  from  Afric's  barren  sand, 
I  from  Islands  of  the  main !  " 

"  All  our  earthly  journey  past, 
Every  tear  and  pain  gone  by, 

Here  together  met  at  last 
At  the  portals  of  the  sky." 

Each  the  welcome,  "Come"  awaits, 
Conquerors  over  death  and  sin ; 

Lift  your  heads,  ye  golden  gates, 
Let  the  little  travellers  hi  ! 


RE-UNION   IN   HEAVEN.  255 

Soon  shall  we  meet  again  — 

Meet  ne'er  to  .sever ; 
Soon  will  peace  wreath  her  chain 

Round  us  forever ; 
Our  hearts  will  then  repose 
Secure  from  worldly  woes  ; 
Our  songs  of  praise  shall  close  — 

Never — no,  Never! 


RE-UNION  IN  HEAVEN. 

How  short  is  the  earthly  history  of  a  family ! 
A  few  years,  and  those  who  are  now  embraced 
in  a  family  circle  will  be  scattered.  The  child- 
ren, now  the  tender  objects  of  solicitude,  will 
have  grown  up  and  gone  forth  to  their  respect- 
ive stations  in  the  world.  A  few  years  more, 
and  children  /and  parents  will  have  passed 
from  this  earthly  stage.  Their  name  will  be 
no  longer  heard  in  their  present  dwelling. 
Their  domestic  loves  and  anxieties,  happiness 
and  sorrows,  will  be  a  lost  and  forgotten  his- 
tory. Every  heart  in  which  it  was  written  will 
be  mouldering  in  the  dust.  And  is  this  all  ? 
Is  this  the  whole  satisfaction  which  is  provided 


256  RE-UNION   IN   HEAVEN. 

for  some  of  the  strongest  feelings  of  our  hearts  ? 
If  it  be,  how  shall  we  dare  pour  forth  our  affec- 
tions on  objects  so  fleeting.  How  can  such 
transitory  beings,  with  whom  our  connection  is 
so  brief,  engage  all  the  love  we  are  capable  of 
feeling  ?  Why  should  not  our  feelings  toward 
them  be  as  feeble  and  unsatisfying  as  they  ? 
But,  blessed  be  God !  this  is  not  all.  Of  this 
he  has  given  us  perfect  assurance  in  the  Gos- 
pel of  his  Son.  Though  to  the  eye  of  unen- 
lightened nature  the  ties  of  domestic  love  seem 
scattered  into  dust,  the  spiritual  eye  of  faith 
perceives  that  they  have  been  loosened  on 
earth,  only  to  be  resumed,  under  far  happier 
circumstances,  in  the  regions  of  everlasting 
love  and  bliss.  Though  the  history  of  a  family 
may  seem  to  be  forgotten,  when  the  last  mem- 
ber of  it  is  laid  in  the  grave,  the  memory  of  it 
still  lives  in  immortal  souls,  and  when  the  cir- 
cle is  wholly  dissolved  on  earth,  it  is  again 
completed  in  heaven. 


END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


JAN  1 6  198B. 

cmej 


"The  Good  That  I  Can  Do" 

W.  H.  DOYLE,  Bridgeport, 
Conn.:  The  poem,  "The  Frater- 
nalist,"  sought  by  J.  N.  W.,  in 
your  issue  of  Oct.  6,  was  written 
by  George  Linnaeus  Banks  (1821- 
1881),  an  English  poet,  and  was 
printed  many  years  ago  in  school 
readers.  There  are  five  stanzas, 
the  first  of  which  contains  the 
lines  wanted. 
I  live  for  those  who  love  me, 

Whose  hearts  are  kind  and  true, 
For  the  heaven  that  smiles  above 
me 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too ; 
For  all  human  ties  that  bind  me, 
For  the  task  my  God  assigned  me, 
For  the  bright  hopes  yet  to  find 
me 

And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 

A  number  of  readers  identified 
the  poem  or  sent  copies  titled, 
"What  I  Live  For"  and  "My  Aim." 
They  wrote  that  it  may  be  found 
in  "Songs  of  Challenge,"  by  Rob- 
ert Frothingham  (Houghton  Mif- 
flin  Company),  Page  69;  "The 
Best  Loved  Poems  of  the  Ameri- 
can People"  (Garden  City  Pub- 
lishing Company,  New  York), 
Page  321;  "Humbler  Poets,"  by 
Slason  Thompson  (A.  C.  McClurg 
&  Co.,  Chicago,  111.),  on  Page  277. 


